Juudai Arano
by Soshika
Summary: not your average final fantasy college fic. (warnings: ZxC pairing, shounen-ai, drugs, SLIGHTLY unrealistic view of college life, FF crossover)[part 12 up]
1. Staring at the Sun

"Where're you going?" 

"Out." 

The door didn't creak when it shut, even though it looked older than anything else in the room. An older dorm, with creaks and drafts and mice and all those wonderfully misery inducing things...completely unlike anything in Cloud's old house. He guessed...It wouldn't be so bad after a while, but for now it was just so out of place. No, not really. It wasn't out of place, he was. And he knew it. 

Cloud's parents had been overprotective of him his entire life, regulating every little thing he did. Where he went, when he came home, who he hung out with...His friends were usually short term, taking pity on his situation and trying to help him out of it one way or another. He was always being told to stand up to his father or to run away. Running wasn't really Cloud's style though, and being smacked around didn't hold much appeal. When the time came to pick colleges, his parents had gone over it almost entirely by themselves. Occasionally they'd ask Cloud if he liked morning or evening classes better but even his responses to those didn't really fly far. If he said he wanted all evening classes, they'd attack him with barrages of questions. Why did he want to sleep all morning? Where was he going to be that he'd need an entire morning off? Just reverse it if he wanted morning classes... 

Rebellion never went far in his house. Once or twice, he'd try sneaking out, but when his father caught him scaling down the wooden siding of their small two story house, Cloud was made very sorry for it. He tried to dodge his father in the dark for a few hours, but got lost in the woods so quickly that his crashing around eventually brought him back into his own yard. He'd been grounded, his room looked over every night before he went to sleep by his father...His mother knew better than to ask what the bruises on his body were from. She would steel her face and slit her eyes until she looked like a department store maniquin and tell him it was his own fault. 

Since Cloud never ran away, since all rebellion failed, his friends would eventually get tired of his stories and leave. It seemed unbelievable to them, that people like that still existed. So they believed Cloud was making it up. 

So what was he doing here now, in all of this, with none of the restrictions he'd grown up with? Everyone else had already had tastes of freedom before, but he should have been living at home..or... 

_Hell with it,_ Cloud gritted his teeth and shook his head, storming away from the door. His roommate was one of those skinny withdrawn gothic guys...Cloud knew he was an outsider but he didn't want to fall into a little well of self pity with that guy. Vincent, his roommate, had just had to go and ask where he was going. Had to. 

Trotting down the steps in the slowly filling dormitory, Cloud steeled himself inside. If this was going to be freedom, he was going to take it and make sure it was his. Nobody had a right to know where he was, where he was going, when he came back or what he did. None of it. He was going to go out and figure out who he was for himself, this time. Maybe once he went home then, his parents would leave him the hell alone. If he went home. The idea of just staying seemed interesting...at the least. 

Cloud's boots crunched on the gravel pathway leading up the hill to the dorm as he moved on aimlessly, dodging in and out of the little circles of pale light from campus streetlamps. Someone must have forgotten to turn them off, but that wasn't really on his mind right now. He was going to go someplace, make something out of this and _not_ live the same kind of dependant locked in life he'd been forced to before. Crossing the road out of campus and into town, Cloud ran a selfconcious hand through his hair, hoping it would stay in place. The spikes were his choice, done up at the last minute before he came. In the bathroom at the airport and without any idea of what it would really look like when it was done. If anyone started in on him over his hair...well he knew one thing he wouldn't do. 

There was no way in hell Cloud was going to talk about home. It lost him friends before, no matter how shallow, and he was sick of being treated like a leper. Besides, he was away from there now. No point in it. He wasn't going to be the kid back home. That kid, he was told himself as he wandered towards a small knot of people outside a beaten three story victorian house, got left at the airport. Or his plane crashed. That's why he would never be there to answer the phone, or go home, or think about home. Because he was gone. Dead, gone, not him. 

It was that train of thought that got shocked and derailed when a gloved hand clapped over his shoulder and made Cloud jump. Jolting back slightly, he did his best to not look so obviously...himself...The student standing in front of him- if he was a student- was tall, probobly an upperclassman. His hair was cropped short and blonde and he wore what Cloud could only label as 'default rebel' cloths. Most of it looked like black leather, although it might have been immitation. He had on a grin, albiet a strange one that both unnerved and invited Cloud. Holding out his free hand which was wrapped in fingerless leather gloves, he introduced himself. 

"Hey there, freshman aren't you? I'm Seifer." 

Cloud caught Seifer's gloved hand and shook it once, wishing it wasn't so obvious he was new to the campus. It could be worse, though, he reminded himself. He could have been completely snubbed. As it was Seifer'd stopped him to talk to him. It was a good sign. _That's right, a good thing, so don't screw it up by showing you've lived under a rock your entire life._ Cloud didn't smile, but tried to return Seifer's smirk. "Yeah, I just got here today. I'm Cloud." 

With a nod, Seifer moved his hand around to cup Cloud's shoulder and began to lead him away from the small crowd he'd been standing with. The tall white haired upperclassman with a painfully effeminiate face waved them off. "Don't cause the kid _too_ much greif, Seifer," he drolled, sweeping a hand through his feathery hair. Seifer gave a smirk over his shoulder and moved towards the house, guiding Cloud past the little collections of people dotting the lawn and porch. 

Inside, the music playing was..._Bad,_ Cloud thought to himself. _I can't say anything though...cause what if Seifer likes it, and then where the hell would I be-_

"Hey! That tail spin is so cheap, man. You best lay off it or you're gonna get a face full of bear paw!" 

"You can't stop Gon! _NOBODY_ can stop Gon!" 

"I'm calling a game after this. And for once, I'll show you how to play _seriously_..." 

"Lighten up, Frey, it's just a game." 

The mixture of voices from one of the side rooms caught Cloud's attention as he turned his head to see who was there. Occupying the room that had once the den were now three or four people gathered around together playing games. Cloud did a slight double take at the one sitting back before confirming that yes, she had a tail and ears...side by side with the main controllers were two guys, one towering over the other even as they sat. The taller had darker skin and shorter hair, and a football player's build. The more slight and pale of the two had a cascade of dark black hair running down his back, spiked to an extent Cloud had never seen before. On the screen, a short stubby dinosaur and a brown bear were both gradually beating eachother to bits. _Tekkan three, I know that game._

Seifer caught Cloud watching out of the corner of his eye and gave a light snort. "Watching those fuckin loosers over there? Don't even bother with them. Hey, you said you're a frosh, right?" It didn't seem like Seifer was really offering Cloud a choice as they moved through the knots of students and off campus friends througout the house. Seifer clipped two plastic cups at the bar together with his fingers as they walked and handed one to Cloud, smirking to himself. "Here, welcome to college." 

For a moment in Cloud's mind there was a slight hesitation, but he going against it was obvious. Seifer was...confident, smooth, knew everything. What Cloud was going to be now. There was no if, he was going through with it. Who he was now was...someone who'd done this before. Seifer probobly knew that wasn't true but Cloud didn't care. When Seifer took a seat in one of the battered armchairs in a corner and pointed with his pinky towards the couch beside it, Cloud took the invitation and sat, drinking quietly. It didn't taste good or bad or anything really...just...there. When Seifer started to speak again, his tone was more confiding and quiet, carrying just far enough to reach Cloud. 

"Right, listen up kid...I didn't pal up to you because I thought you needed it. I do have something in mind here. You talk about it though, and I will turn you inside out...got it?" Cloud blinked in slight shock and nodded. Seifer gave a slight smirk and narrowed his eyes at Cloud, grinning. "Do I frighten you?" He asked, his tone nearly mocking. 

_I'm not afraid of you, or anyone for that matter,_ Cloud thought bitterly to himself. He was sick of having other people intimidate him, he was sick of being afraid of things that didn't matter. So he wouldn't be. He snorted and gave Seifer a look that he hoped would show him just how unimpressed Cloud was with his tough attitude. "No." 

Seifer sat back in his chair and the smirk faded, replaced by a serious mask. "Good. Because I don't want people I'll be having close contact with being afraid of me. Now listen close because I don't feel like repeating myself." Cloud swept the corners of his eyes towards the taller blonde but said nothing. Seifer continued. "I'm going to give you something...consider it a sort of sample. You got two options then. One, pay me back, or two, decline. So?" 

Cloud shrugged appatheticly and set the flimsy plastic cup, still mostly full, on a side table beside the couch. Inside he was shaking, every bit of sense in his brain panicking and throwing themselves around like a nuclear reactor. Thinknowactnowavoidnowgetawaygotwoardswaitlaternowherethenwhen...Cloud took a deep breath and tried to look as though he was considering it, although he was really trying to calm the maelstrom inside his mind. There really didn't seem to be too many options. Accept and keep on this track of who he _wanted_ to be, or back out and be...a child. Not much of a choice really. "Show me." 

Grinning and delving his hands into his pockets, Seifer nodded. "I thought so. Now...you _will_ do this here. And you didn't get it from me. Understood? You act fucked up if there's any problem, and I don't know you." For a moment, Seifer seemed to freeze. Hands slithering back out of his jacket pockets, he flicked a pinky towards Cloud. "Hold out your hand." 

Cloud obeyed, not really knowing what to expect. Seifer leapt forward and clapped both his hands together around Cloud's palm, shaking them tightly and grinning in his face. "You're not so bad after all," He hissed, patting the younger student's arm and withdrawing. Cloud's fist, clenched reflexively he could feel around what had to be a small tablet. 

_Screw it, I haven't got anything to lose._ Cloud did his best to move inconspiciously as he swallowed the tablet dry, Seifer giving him a clap on the back and laughing. So the past was left at the airport. That was that. 


	2. Bleed American

  


Juudai Arano /:/ Part 2  
  
Because of the noise inside the ramshackle house, because of people talking and the thrumming of lighting and television and other appliances, it was hard to hear that it had begun to rain. The mirror finish of circular raindrops covered in streetlamp light...they made the road look coated in mercury. None of the party goers really took notice of the street or the rain, more interested in one another and their surroundings. Nobody was distractable enough to be enthralled by raindrops. Nobody really, except for Cloud. 

The raindrops were absolutely facinating to him, slightly distorted through the glass and screen of the window. He could feel the floor under his feet and the texture of the windowpane under his fingertips with such clarity it would have frightened him, but he felt far above fear. He loved the raindrops and their shining finish, he loved the sensation of the glass, soft and cool. The room felt warm, cold, lit up like a star. The voices of people talking purred and rubbed against his skin like dozens of overly affectionate cats. He himself felt catlike, ready to stretch out on the floor and be petted or just to roll around a bit, loving. 

A hand on his shoulder, a body pressed against his, Seifer's voice rode the wave of others and prevailed above them. It cooed, but unlike any bird, and although Cloud found it hard to listen in entireity, he knew that it was asking him for things, telling him things. He would agree. Nothing could frighten him or feel wrong, because nothing was frightening or wrong. The rain sounded like tongues clicking. 

If people noticed them, they hadn't said anything. Cloud didn't care. 

*** 

Video games could only provide so much of a distraction. Especially if you kept winning out of sheer luck. Zack knew he wasn't good at the games, that he was using a cheap character. He knew that the only real entertainment he was getting out of it was by razzing everyone else around him when they lost. Tap B rapidly and press towards their character. People would have probobly been going home already in small groups, filtering out onto the lawn and into the night if not for the rain. Most of them seemed intent on standing around, though, pretending to be having a hell of a good time. The party was okay, he guessed. Something to do. It could have been worse, there could have been bad music. 

The disapproving click of a tongue next to him brough Zack's wandering thoughts back to the game they were playing. Freya, an exchange student he'd known since they'd both been freshman, was making disapproving faces at the screen and holding her controller lopsided in one hand. "For Gods sakes...if you're just going to press one button over and over, what's the point of playing?" Her whip-thin tail lashed side to side behind them. 

Blinking, Zack realized that he hadn't been paying attention to the game at all. Yet, due to the amazing cheapness of any given secret character, he was still winning. _Great, can't even keep my mind on a fighting game I'm so bored. This sucks, we could'a done this back in the room. Hell, at least there we woulda had the choice of music and food._ Shrugging, he held the controller back over his head and made a hissing sound between his teeth. "Guess my heart's just not in it. Handing off." 

"Or your head. Christ," Freya, in her amazing monotone cynicism, managed not to sound the least bit peeved with the dark haired young man slouched on the floor beside her. While she was still occasionally shocked by just how long and unkempt his hair managed to be, Zack had long since gotten over Freya's external peculiarities. Their campus was home to many eccentricites, but the world was an eccentric place, and even with so much diversity there were still people unwilling to accept it. Freya's features were animalistic, an extended muzzle and a thin velvety fur that covered parts of her body. At first, she had been the subject of ridicule. Before she opened her mouth, and proved to everyone that she was full capable of defending herself. She had managed to find general acceptance within a few groups, a few tight knit sets of friends who looked and acted no more alike than fish and birds. 

That was the same group heading that Zack had found himself clustered under. It didn't bother him, he could get along well with pretty much anyone, given they didn't feel the need to cause problems. You'd think, the dark haired student thought with a mental sigh, that in an area as big as the college town most of them lived in, there'd be more of an acceptance of differences in lifestyles. But nah, there was the same grade-school level of immaturity on just about anything you could think of. Little physical anomilies...shit, don't even bring up sexual preference. _Yeah, there's the Weapons to take care of _that_... You keep quiet around here. Well, ever since-_

Zack's thoughts didn't have time to complete themselves. Powered by something between pixie stix and rocket fuel, something only identifiable as blonde, tattooed and insanely hyperactive shot overtop of both Zack and Freya, seeming to hang midair for a moment before unceremoniously dropping onto them. Flattened to the ground, Freya and Zack found themselves subject to a series of flails kicks and generally spastic behavior that was both extremely painful and hilarious. Gasping for air, Zack fought to breath around the laughter that was seeming both intent on shredding his ribs and muting him. Freya kicked and beat at their assailient with her controller, her dark eyes flashing dangerously. 

"Zell, what the hell are you doing? Get _off_ us. Zell!" Her protests were cut to a sort of gurgle when the weight load doubled, two elbows planting themselves in front of the game system as a shock of brown hair flopped downwards, followed by a smooth featured smiling face. 

Freya stopped clawing at Zell, who was still flopped lengthwise across the both of them, and slitted her eyes grumbling. "Irvine..." 

"Yo," the dark haired lanky upperclassman flashed her a grin and sumersaulted forward, crouching on his heels and folding his hands between his knees. "How's it goin Freya," He added emphisis on everyone's name, like he was jokingly trying to seduce them...or something akin to that. Actually given the long haired student's reputation it probobly was only half-joking. _Gah._ "Zack," His pronunciation on Zack's name didn't change. Freya rolled her eyes and shoved again at the unyeilding lump of Zell pinning them to the floor. 

Zack, on the other hand, had adapted rather well to being flattened by a shorter, more hyperactive person and returned Irvine's grin with one of his own and a sloppy false salute, once he freed his arm from under Zell. "Hey, Irvs. What goes on?" 

"You're blocking the _SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEN_," Zell interupted any response Irvine felt like making and rolled forwards off Freya and Zack, elbowing the taller boy out of the way and knocking Irvine onto the ground. Sitting up and picking the dangling controller off his shoulder by the wire, Zack raised his eyebrows slightly. 

"Nevermind..." 

"Is someone gonna play me over here, or what, ya damn pansies?" The resounding clomp of the additional member of their party sent shockwaves through the floor as Barret grumbled and motioned to the game impatiently. Zack felt kind of bad for Barret, who was obviously built to be a jock...but since the summer time had had his arm confined to a sling and cast. He'd gone on a trip with some friends rafting, there'd been some unexpected rough water, and he'd been thrown overboard. There wasn't much else for him to do besides wait for his arm to be free of the cast and play video games. 

"Not like I can see the screen anyway," Zack bit the side of his cheek and hopped to his feet, dropping the controller into Freya's lap. The rodent-like girl shot him a slow withering death glower, but if Zack did see it he didn't pay it much mind. "Frey'll cover for me for now, I gotta walk before my ass becomes stuck to the floor. Which would suck, because then you'd have to come here to water me once a week." Both Barret and Freya looked at eachother patheticly, knowing what was coming. Irvine and Zell were already up and gone after the first sentance. Zack took not notice, and continued. "I guess eventually you could throw a tablecloth over me or something and claim I'm some sort of greatly meaningful art, but until then it'd be kind of weird to have a person stuck into the middle of a living room floor, huh?" Waving over his shoulder with one hand into the pocket of his cargos, Zack continued to ramble as he walked. "I mean don't get me wrong I'm sure there's plenty of art majors who'd really appriciate it, and I could wave my arms really slowly on Sundays and make weird sounds like 'fwooozaaaa' at three in the afteroon on Tuesdays. Then it'd be living art, but only so long as you guys remembered to water me," Walking backwards, Zack wasn't watching where he was going as he talked...not like it mattered to him. "Then I'd just be stinky, decomposing art. Or garbage that's stuck to the floor. I'm not really sure there's a difference at this point in time-" 

"Do you ever stop with those _stupid_ rants you start on, Knightblade?" 

_That voice...is not a good voice to be saying that._ Zack turned with a sheepish grin prepared on his face. And there he was, as expected and unappriciated. Silver white hair almost obscured the light green eyes that radiated boredom and discontentment on the face that had lurked at the dark haired student's back. He was at the top of the class, always hovering behind anyone doing anything that could potentially get them into trouble. Sephiroth was an expert at being in every place you'd expect a dean's list student not to be. He was a sophmore, like Zack, but acted as though he'd been at the school for years prior. Given how quickly he picked up and peiced together information, it wasn't an unreasonable bet that he knew more of what went on over the campus than most of the seniors. 

It was a rather striking contrast to see the two of them standing face to face. Sephiroth wasn't that much taller than Zack, but the smooth orderly fashion in which he wore his hair was such a sharp contridiction to the unkempt disaray of Zack's. Their cloths contradicted as well. Zack in loose and worn teeshirts and old pants, Sephiroth in fitted, clean, nearly-new looking white shirts and dark pants. Dark and light, polar opposite...and the year prior hadn't helped to dispell that imagery. Zack tended to try to avoid confrontations with Sephiroth in public, simply because their mirror opposite selves drew stares. There was that, and it seemed to directly go against both their natures to be talk to eachother. Sephiroth was orderly and buisnesslike, and kept his thoughts in quiet order. Zack was out there on his sleeve, and extremely vocal about it. 

This. Was bad. 

"Hey, Seph..." Zack knew that eyes were on them now, and didn't particularly like it. At least it wouldn't cripple him like some of the other students he knew of...Usually a confrontation with Sephiroth meant that he wanted to let out some little sliver of cryptic information meant to drive you up a wall for weeks in advance. His little tidbits were meant to keep students out of trouble, but by the time they got figured out, it was too late. At best, what could be done with Sephiroth's little warnings was try to not dwell on them...Sometimes anyway. 

Brushing strands of silver-white hair from his face, Sephiroth's eyes settled into their nuetral state. The tone of voice he used as well was lowered to something more slick and confining, like a bodybag made of velvet. It made Zack feel slightly uncomfortable every time, but there wasn't much he could really do about it. "Knightblade, you _are_ aware that your little group of friends isn't the most highly thought of by the Dean of your college and the school board, am I right?" 

Zack nodded. It was obvious that the teachers seemed to have dark omneciant eyes out after the fringe students. His freshman year hadn't helped that image, and he knew it. But it was too late to reverse time, and the best he could do now was cope with the reputation he'd given himself and his friends. "Yeah, I know that," Would Sephiroth just hurry up? He didn't need this announced to a whole new year's worth of students... "Is there a problem or something? We're all mostly innocent unless you count the dozens of naked midgets we have chained under our beds. Oh god. The dozens upon dozens of midgets-" 

The very corner of Sephiroth's misty green eyes twitched slightly. "Knightblade..." 

"Yeap? Oh. Sorry about that. Rare disease ya know, my brain's slowly being eaten by a plant-like parasite." 

"I'm opting to ignore that...I just feel it my obligation to warn you that, well...were anything to happen to anyone here, I highly doubt the blame would find the appropriate party. So... Keep a watch out, will you?" 

Seriousness flickered a moment on Zack's face and his voice dropped into the tones seldom used, ones he kept on reserve for dangerous situations. "What are you talking about?" 

The head of last year's class chose to say no more, brushing lightly past Zack on his way towards the door. The silver strands that drifted behind him seemed free of gravity and followed like obedient ghosts after their master, held back and tamed by a tight black band which held the silver cascade into a ponytail. When the cryptic sophmore was gone completely, Zack was left standing with fists involuntarily clenched at his sides. When Freya's body dusted the air beside him, Zack found himself unable to abandon the serious tone of voice. "Where the hell is Seifer." 

"Probobly upstairs. Why?" Freya didn't appriciate Sephiroth's way of skirting important details, but being another one of the more upstanding students she couldn't find much fault with him as a student. She respected him as a rival. She didn't enjoy, however, his tendency to manipulate her friends. 

Zack offered no reply to Freya, pushing past her into one of the house's larger rooms. His knuckles tightened around the doorjamb when he looked across the fifteen or so people still talking or amusing themselves. Some faces he knew, some he didn't. The cracked half-white walls on the old house worked against him. What he needed to see was what he had expected to see. Everything looked normal, whether it was or not, and he couldn't pick Seifer out. He hadn't left. He _hadn't_ left, Zack was by the door, he would have seen it if Seifer had left. _Shit, Sephiroth wouldn't have told me that if it was nothing. Where is he?_ Nothing was unusual. People talking, Zell causeing havock with a coffee table and Irvine cleaning up after him. People he vaguely knew...but..._Upstairs, maybe. Fuck, not upstairs._

Cutting through the room, Zack did his best not to look like he was about to cause World War Three. No luck, people were giving him weird looks. Well, now everyone knew he was involved in whatever was going to happen. Fun, fun, silly-willy. Zack tried to ignore it and thumped his sneakers against the staircase, the landing squeaking as he hit it. Slightly above the room now, he could still see no sign of the blonde scarred man. _But there's Kuja...Oh, this is lovely. Where there's smoke there's fire, so where _is_ he?_

It wasn't pleasant to think about, but the staircase stretched on beyond the landing into the second floor. Zack could feel the drywall familiar under his fingertips when he touched the wall, turned and looked up. He knew when his nails started to dig into the chalky surface, down under the paint, through paper. Yes, the stairway was familiar, just like the rest of the building. Yes, he knew that that's probably where Seifer was. All the same, he didn't want to go forward, and all the same, he could feel his sneakers going toe first onto the next step. All the same, watching for creaks in the boards, Zack made his way to the top of the steps. 

The hallway was the same as it was last year, too. The carpet on the floor was still that gritty faded maroon, the walls were still half-painted that off-white colour someone had probably thought was relaxing a long time ago. The lights were off, but Zack could hear people moving in the half-lit hallway. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the shadows. 

At first it looked like only one person against the wall. It didn't take a genius to know that one person didn't move like that, though. It was Seifer, his jacket swept outward to obscure whomever he had up against the wall. That person pinned against the drywall, but if they could have run, the distant gloss in their eyes said they weren't in any state of mind to do so. The glossed blue irises drifted down the hall absently and landed on Zack, who stood staring with one hand against the wall. Seifer's fingers were closed claw-like around the shorter blonde's wrists, holding them to the wall with one arm. The other hand, blocked from view by both bodies, was delved down between their waists. Both of them were moving, the strange circular motions nobody's ever interested in explaining. If the blonde had any inclination to speak, it was cut short by Seifer's mouth, his scar pale against the new student's flushed skin. 

There are certain things that trigger strong reactions in human beings. Once adolesence is left behind, people tend to deny their ability to snap out at these triggers, but they still exist. Those who do snap usually aren't regarded with much respect, even though everyone wants to lash out at one time or another. Sometimes the triggers are words, sometimes actions, sometimes memories. 

Zack was triggered.

It didn't take an athlete to leap from the top of the stairs across the hall, to slam shoulder first into Seifer and knock him aside. Zack's feet tripped over those of the other blonde, and he staggered a moment before regaining his footing. His shoulder hurt now, but he was too angry to think about it. Anger was thick and heavy, filling up against his eyes until he felt blind. The drugged student was taller than Zack had thought, he'd been slouching against the wall, and pulled himself up haltingly. Didn't matter. No time to notice. The no-name's pants were halfway down around his waist but it wasn't important. Seifer was already coming back at Zack with a punch and dangerous eyes. 

Zack threw himself against the wall, out of the way of Seifer's fist. For a second he was flat up against the no-name, so close he could see the thread sized muscles that made up his eyes. Pull away. Zack came away just behind Seifer and jabbed hard with his elbow. The other man made a sick, choked grunt and went sideways. Good, the bastard. Get ahold of him. Zack caught Seifer's jacket collar before he had time to fall, swung the blonde around by it. His body hit the wall with a shudder that rattled the doors on their hinges, and probably dented the drywall. Zack held tight to Seifer's collar, doing his best to hold the scarred man up. His free fist was hurting, itching. He wanted to beat Seifer. He wanted to. 

"What the hell are you doing?!" He didn't mean for his voice to be as loud as it came out. Seifer flinched at the volume, slitted his eyes into a glare and stayed silent. Zack's fist lashed out and felt the satisfaction of being slammed against human flesh. The blonde winced again. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you?! You think this is funny? You drug freshmen, then you drag them up here? Do you even know his fucking _name?_" Zack could feel his arms shaking, he didn't care why. 

"Leamme alone, I'm fucking fine..." The no-name made a weak and off-balance effort to pull Zack away from Seifer, his fingertips slipping against the fabric of Zack's shirtsleeve. Out of the corner of his eye, Zack watched the no-name with erratic short hair protest halfheartedly, watched him pull again before falling back against the wall and sliding down to the floor, legs folded up, icey eyes glaring up at him. "Bastard..." 

Returning his attention to Seifer, Zack saw the scarred man was watching the blonde no-name himself. Another flare, another trigger, and Zack pounded Seifer in the stomach, under the ribs. In, twist, up, like he'd learned in a karate class six million years ago. Seifer's skin went pale a second, shock on his face, air wooshing from his lungs. Zack let go of his collar and Seifer dropped to the floor, his arms wrapping around his stomach and shoulders heaving for breath. Hands still in fists, Zack took a step back. The trenchcoat Seifer wore spread around him on the carpet, spread out in different angles like a starfish. 

Look at the no-name, look at Seifer.

Pure hate wasn't so easily sedated. 

Taking hold of Seifer's collar again, Zack wound his wrist up in the fabric and tightened his muscles. With the wind knocked out of him, Seifer was in no position to fight back. The dark haired sophmore shot a look towards the no-named blonde slouched against the wall, his voice in low, backed tones. 

"Don't move. I'm going to come back."

Zack dragged Seifer behind one of the heavy, old oak doors of the upstairs, its hinges creaking shut and Seifer's muted gasping still auidable in the hallway. When the door shut, there was a yelp and a sick weighted sound. Dull and prolonged, muffled by the door and rug, the beating being administered could not be entirely hidden. 

***** 

It seemed like time had stopped completely by the time Zack reemerged from behind the oak door, his knuckles scraped raw and his muscles tired. His toes hurt. Zack hated getting angry, but Seifer always pushed him over the edge. Not true...he didn't used to, but before was before and now was now and now Seifer had the amazing ability to send Zack off like a packet of firecrackers. He hated being angry, he hated hating. It made him feel sick in the pit of his stomach, and tired. Not to mention as dangerous as an oncoming Mack truck. It wasn't even like he was really thinking about taking care of that blonde no-name when he started beating on Seifer, either- 

The blonde, shit! He'd forgot...Wiping the back of his hand over his forehead, Zack felt his fingers trembling in the air and glanced down the hall. The light-built student was still there, coiled up against the wall. Maybe asleep. Walking through the orange-lit hallway on weak knees, Zack leaned against the wall next to the blonde and nudged him with the side of his sneaker. The blonde stirred slightly and batted at his leg, his hand recoiling under his knees almost instantly. A shivering sigh escaped Zack's lungs and he sank downwards, running his fingers through his dark hair, his entire body trembling. 

Jesus Christ...what the hell had he just done...What he'd just done was crazy, nobody sane would have done it. Yeah, wonderful, he'd gotten the satisfaction of beating up on Seifer, but it wasn't like Seifer wasn't going to try to get back at him. Why had he done that? What the _hell_ had he just _done_? He felt cold and weak... shaken. Leaning his head back against the wall, Zack breathed deeply for a few moments, trying to place his thoughts. 

The only placement he could make was the same question he was repeating over and over... 

"Zack? Are you upstairs?" 

Freya's voice broke through his merry-go-round of thoughts as Zack rocked onto his knees and shouted a reply back down the steps. "Yeah...Freya..." Words seemed to slip and drift away when he reached for them, his entire thought process was dulled by the shock of his own anger. He couldn't just leave no-name here...when Seifer woke up and stepped outside, the blame would probobly fall on him. So...no way he could be left. Digging one arm under the blonde's knees and taking hold of his far shoulder blade, Zack pushed himself up off one knee and lifted the new student. No-name made sounds of protest and clawed blindly again before shifting his weight in Zack's arms and latching onto the dark-haired sophmore's shirt. Zack gritted his teeth, turning to shuffle back down the steps. 

Freya met him at the top of the stairs, her small feet making nearly no sound as she bounded up the steps. Zack's long silence had her concerned, and reaching the awning into the hallway above, she realized her concerns had been valid. Coiled limply in Zack's arms was a boy with erratic blonde hair and a build similar to his own. The look in Zack's eyes was hollow, his skin paled and hands shaking even as they held the blonde up. For a moment, Freya's stood quiet in disbelief. By the time she had recovered herself, Zack was speaking. His voice was pleeding, desperate. 

"Freya, can you drive the truck back to the dorm tonight? I think we have a slight problem..." 

Her mousey features softened as she nodded, slowly backing down the steps so as to make sure Zack wouldn't trip on his decent. "Sure, not a problem. Do you want to borrow my room tonight?" 

"Yeah...thanks..." His words were absent, elsewhere. That much was obvious. 

A few moments later, a battered silver pickup truck rolled into the driveway beside the sophmore dormitory, a darkhaired shape hunched down in the bed with a lithe blonde clutching against him tightly in drugged sleep. Tail lights reflected on the damp black pavement as tires growled on gravel in the black night. All of it felt so terriably surreal, Zack wasn't so sure he was entirely sober himself. 


	3. Defrocked

Juudai Arano /:/ Part 3  
  
Cloud woke slowly, sometime in the slip of time between midnight and early morning. For a moment he was struck with disorientation, before memories started flickering back inconsistantly. So where was he now...? Some things were only half remembered, and would likely remain so until something triggered their full recovery. There was a quick twinge of guilt on remembering that he'd taken whatever Seifer had offered without thinking twice, but Cloud burried it as quickly as he could, reminding himself that he'd intended to do whatever he wanted to this time around. Hell with the consiquences, right? 

So...then where _was_ he...Pushing upwards and sitting back on his knees, Cloud blinked in delayed slowness, looking around the darkened room. Faint blue light spilt from flickering little starpoints around the edges of the ceiling...christmas lights that had been brought from someone's home. The sound of raindrops outside felt distant and too near at the same time, like when he'd been a small child and sat by the huge windows in his kitchen, on the tiles, listening to raindrops spatter against the rear deck. Little halfmoons of white reflected inwards through a window on the far wall, shimmering against glossy posters, moving with the constant downpour of rain outside. 

He was in a bed, the only one in the small room. A single, probobly in the dorm...Brushing off the blanket that someone had put on him, he wondered who lived here. Seifer? It didn't strike him as Seifer's kind of room...but then he barely knew him so... 

At the foot of the bed, someone stirred. Ears perking up to the sounds of fabric brushing fabric, Cloud crawled across the bed, the blanket bunching around his knees and dragging behind. Nuzzled against the edge of the bed, head rested on the covers and arms folded together. The black bangs lay at twisted patterns over the sheets, long and spiked. In fact the individual's hair was a lot like Cloud's in terms of being spikey, only this persons lay back against his spine like a mane. The bedsprings creaked as the blonde crept closer, scrutinizing. He couldn't remember much of the night, so who was this person, and what did they want? Cloud rolled over possiabilites in his mind, but none of the worse scenerios fit. It was vauge, but he could remember catching a ride with some people...this was probobly one of them. In any case, Cloud probobly owed him a thanks for letting him stay here...But not now. It'd be awkward, and stupid, and Cloud was determined not to come off as either to anyone. 

So instead, the blonde rocked back on his knees and slid off the bed backwards, watching the blankets crumple into a wake before him. For a moment the dark haired one stirred in his sleep as the blankets pulled under his skin and the bed rebounded in slow motion from Cloud's retreating weight, but once the blonde was on his feet, he was still again. He'd find the dark-haired boy later, Cloud decided. Maybe tomorrow or the next day, or another party sometime. Bending slightly at the waist, he took in what he could of the sleeper's face, partially obscured by the black bangs. It wasn't hard to remember, and the fact that there was an X-shaped facial scar would help. No problem. 

Shifting his feet in his sneakers, Cloud dug his hands into the pouch of his sweatshirt and backed towards the door quietly, watching the room's other occupant sleeping as he did. Fumbling with his hand against the door backwards for the knob, the shock of cold metal on his fingertips broke Cloud's fixation and forced him to refocus. Making no sound, the door spilled a widening sliver of light into the dark room, falling across the dark-haired one's knees and back. Cloud slipped through the cracked door and hugged the wall on the other side, a sky blue eye watching the diminishing spotlight as he shut the portal as quietly as he could. With the lightest click, the door locked itself behind the blonde, and Cloud was alone in the low-lit hallway. 

On his own, and slightly sick to his stomach from what he had taken earlier, Cloud followed the corridor to a stairwell at the nearest end and decended, landing at each step on tiptoe and making only the muffled sounds of brushing fabric as he moved. If anyone was awake at this hour, he thought to himself as the side door creaked open into the rainy weather, they hadn't seen him. Without intending to, Cloud found himself glad of the fact. He really didn't want to have to answer questions, to deal with what people would think he knew. To be honest, to be perfectly fair, he was scared. He'd been scared at the party, he was scared now. Because he'd taken a perfect little white pill from a near complete stranger, people would have already labeled him. Maybe it was too late to be thinking back on this, but now Cloud was regretting giving himself that label. He'd always had a fear of confrontation...of being asked about something they assumed he should know when he didn't. Maybe people weren't about to throw things and beat him to death over pretending to be something he wasn't, but there were still the knowing looks and the changed tones of voices it could get him... 

Although the rain wasn't harsh, it was obnoxious in the least, Cloud's spiked bangs sticking to his forehead and droplets trickling down the ends and landing on his nose. Distracted by his own thoughts and trying to ignore the sensory interfearance of the rain, he didn't notice the approuching body until a hand clasped down with certainty on his shoulder. The slightly built blonde jumped, his heels coming down in a puddle and sending a small shower across the feet of both parties. It was almost perfectly dark out, the only light now from the stairwell windows of the dormitories and the reflected streetlight in raindrops. Still, in almost complete darkness, the very outline of the person in front of him was painfully obvious. 

The only thing protecting the individual from the rain was a thin hood and cape, the garment dark enough in colour to be lost in the rainy night that surrounded them. Through the folds of the cape, however, were the effeminiate curves and tightly clinging clothing of someone Cloud had barely been introduced to earlier. The stranger sweapt a hand up confidently and gave his light hair a flick from inside the cape, expression invisiable in the inky weather. "You must be Cloud," the tired sounding voice practicly purred as the apparation stepped closer, now within a hairs bredth of Cloud's body. "I'm terriably glad I stayed awake now, it would have indeed been a shame to miss you." 

Blinking and squinting in darkness, Cloud wanted to step away, but didn't want the cape-clad figure to take offence. If he'd really been waiting...It was somewhat of an awkward situation, to be caught off guard by someone who he hadn't even been introduced to, let alone hung out with. A friend of a possiable aquaintence, pulling him aside in the dead of night in the rain. Oh, this was just stereotypically shady. It was hard to keep the chattering teeth out of his voice, but Cloud managed despite the chill of the rain that soaked through his sweatshirt and down to his skin more with each passing moment. "Hey..." He tried to sound nonchalant, unintimidated. It wasn't working very well. "I don't think I remember your name, but you were at the party earlier, right?" 

The voice was so cool and sultry it seemed to wash away in the rain and coil around Cloud's sneakers, slinking up his legs. "That's right, very good, I was. My name," He gave another flick of his hair, spattering Cloud with the stray water droplets on the back of his hand. Was this person flicking his hair because it was wet, or some other reason? It gave him a haughty air, somewhat superior. Cloud felt intimidated almost instantly. "Is Kuja. A friend of Seifer...He told me you might be here, I thought I'd wait around and see if you needed any..." He stalled on the last word, a hand moving to smooth an unseen wrinkle in the tight dark cloths that made a second skin under the cloak. "Assistance?" 

Shifting uncomfortably from side to side but unable to excuse himself without feeling even worse about the situation, Cloud came to a sudden realization. He had no clue where, in relation to his own dormitory, he was. When he tried to word this to Kuja, however, it came out mangled and shakey. Mentally, Cloud cursed at himself over and over. _Extremely smooth, Strife, now you know you're on the bottom rung of their pecking order. It could be worse...at least on the bottom they expect you to be naive..._ "Yeah...I'm a freshman so I don't quite know where I am..." Cloud trailed off, his querry dying halfway through as another flick of Kuja's wrist sent the hair behind the cloak moving again. 

There was an unhealthy silence, the slow spattering of late raindrops carrying on their own conversation but leaving the two students standing in sullen darkness. Cloud could feel the raindrops soaking through his cloths more with the passage of time, sticking the fabric against his skin. Feeling clamy and growing more and more apprehensive of Kuja, the blonde was ready to speak up again, the words stepping over his teeth and into open air before the hooded boy cutting him off. 

"Yes, of course I can show you the way home, it was what I came out here to do all the long you know. Follow me," Kuja stepped around Cloud, leaning inwards and rubbing against him as he did so. The shorter blonde barely managed to keep from jumping at the physical contact, raindrops now rubbed between the fibers of his cloths. _He has no concept of personal space,_ Cloud mentally stuttered to himself, still intimidated by the light haired guide who was now beckoning for him to follow. 

"Now I have something I should tell you," Kuja spoke as they crossed the darkened campus, Cloud having to shorten his stride to keep up with the other's peculiar walk. "Seifer's given me a job...in turn it's a job for you." In the wan morning light Cloud did his best to avoid eye contact with the guiding upperclassman, instead trying to mark where he was in relation to the rest of the campus. The freshman dorms were down the hill and across the street, Cloud began to feel stupid for not trying to explore on his own first. 

"What kind of job?" He felt stupid, naive, paranoid and fighting paranoia. Like a freshman. 

Ground squishing beneith their feet, Kuja remained silent, delaying his response. Their footsteps slapped against the alien solidity of the sidewalk, then the street itself before the light haired upperclassman took up the conversation again. "If you remember what Seifer so graciously offered you during the party?" He began in a smooth, cool tone. "Well we run a small buisness here on campus..." 


	4. Fresh Feeling

It wasn't Zack's favourite way to start off the day, staring down a bowl of probably stale neon cereal and trying not to think too hard about the events of the previous night. It was a fairly typical monday morning though. And in retrospect what he found himself wrapped up in was never really all that bad, but it always seemed overwhelming at the time. It felt like a throwback to want to think it out while eating cereal that was probably better off in a toxic waste dump. But that was what Zack needed. 

The cafeteria itself was one of two on campus, each on opposite ends. Zack had learned his freshman year- the previous- that the one closest to the freshman dorms was also the nastiest. About all it was good for was fast food and stolen silverware. The other, farther away dining hall was usually cleaner and had better food, but was also more crowded. And closer to classes. So you sacrificed privacy for quality and convinience evened itself out in the end. There were bay windows which looked out over the little student-only street, sometimes obscured for a couple days at a time by a car that had been illegally parked over night and was now a semi-perminant landmark thanks to the iron locks the campus latched onto one of the front wheels. Tabletops were always covered in a thin layer of salt, and the shakers were always being stolen. The familiarity of it was refreshing. 

"Mind moving your backpack, brooding one?" Freya's flatline and even paced voice brought Zack out of whatever daydream he'd been having staring into the little contained acid trip of a breakfast food. Before blinking or even looking up, the sophmore swept an arm evenly across the table which sent his pack and a few loose books and binders chaoticly racing towards the carpeted floor. People turned slightly in their chairs to look, but returned to eating after they saw there wasn't anything of interest happening. Freya pulled a slight face on her grey-ish muzzle and set down a plate and bagel, pausing to lift her tail high enough to make use of the seats. "You're certainly a ray of sunshine today. What's eating you?" 

Zack picked up a eye-stabbing red peice of cereal and held it between his index and forefinger, dancing it in the rat-girl's direction and straining his voice into cracking regions. "A million little minions for me, the breakfast king. We've crawled into his stomach and slowly plan to take over his entire body by first numbing the brain with waves of sugar warriors! World conquest will be ours if we can take but this one last human. Do not dare to defy us, or we will blind you with our Yellow 14 and Red Lake 5!" He then ate it. 

Cracking a smile, Freya neatly tore the bagel in half with her claws and picked up a knife and little gold-wrapped packet of butter and began preparing her own breakfast. "That's original, yet somehow completely expected. Hoping to go into a sugar coma and forget the events of sunday?" 

"Something along those lines, yeah." Zack shrugged blankly and picked up another brain-rapingly bright peice of cereal and crunched down on it. 

Again, the rat-girl pulled a slight face and paused in her motions. "I'm worried about you now, Zack. This isn't like you. What happened?" She shook her head, the white threads of her hair dancing lightly. "You wouldn't do something stupid and rash." 

"What, like have wild unprotected gay sex on your bed?" Smirking, Zack flicked a piece of cereal in Freya's direction. "No, nothing like that." 

"Stop that." Freya's paw batted away the peice. 

"They warned you not to interfear." 

"Neon cereal is not the answer to this problem, Zack." 

"Damn you, I do not have a breakfast problem." The exchange was unusually deadpan, a few freshman sitting at the next table over went into snickerfits. Zack flicked a few peices of day-glow sugar in their direction as well until they shut up. "It's just hanging over my head." 

Freya always had dark eyes, the kind that were so inky brown they faded to black in the center. Some people were offset by eyes like that, but the rat-girl had the aura of one much more experienced and well traveled than others, and the gaze was always a comfort. "What you did to Seifer, you mean?" 

"There's that, yeah," Zack gave up on the cereal and rested his head in a hand, propping his elbow against the table edge. "And the fact that he was gone by the time I was awake. I don't know who I was getting out of trouble. Hell, what do I know, maybe he really _did_ know what he was doing." 

Freya shook her head again, taking a bite out of the bagel and swallowing before speaking. "I highly doubt that. You know how Seifer and his compatriots can be." 

"Still doesn't solve the problem of knowing who that kid was." 

A smile crept into the rat-girl's eyes and she leaned across the table, the fuzzy brown sweater she wore making soft scuffling noises on the surface. "You certainly seem hung up on him, Knightblade. I would have never figured-" 

"Hey," Zack pointed a warning figure and leaned back on two legs of the dining room chair. "Don't make me get the cereal after you again." 

Pulling back into her seat and continuing to eat, Freya let Zack continue the conversation one-sided. Once he began, it wasn't too rough a bet to say that he would keep going. It was at least a sign that he wasn't brooding quietly anymore. Depression never seemed to suit the dark-haired student. He let the chair fall forward onto four legs again, clacking as it did so, and went on speaking. 

"It isn't that I'm trying to get him in trouble, and Gods know that if I make anything public about what happened to him, he's toast. I've never personally had a problem with the homophobes on campus...even the Weapons. But that's just because they know I can hold my own and won't take shit. Him," Zack paused, shaking his head. The mane of dark spikes down his back responded with delay. "He couldn't even hold his own to Seifer. Call me crazy but I think he's one of those 'I've got to college, now it's time to rebel as hard as I can to show everyone how much of an individual I am' types. And I don't say that I wasn't one of them-" 

Freya cut him off curtly around a mouthful of bagel. "Because you were." 

Balling a fist without more than a two second wait, Zack slammed it down on the tail end of the spoon that peeked out from under the hyper-chroma mass and sent a psychadellic sugar-puff rain down on the entire table. The freshman behind them burst out laughing as both of the sophmores' heads recieved a liberal dusting of cereal parts. It took them a moment to shake and dust away the artifically coloured goodness before Zack could continue as if nothing had happened. "In any case, that's going to get him into trouble around here. I've probably already made it worse for him by beating up on Seifer..." He trailed off for a moment. "I don't know. I feel like I should keep away for his own sake, but I at least want to know his god damned _name_..." 

"You're rambling, Zack," Freya wiped her muzzle on her sleeve without making eye contact. 

Reaching across the table and showing some of his more usual energy, Zack stole the other half of the anthropomorphic student's bagel and began spinning it routinely on the polished tabletop. "Excuse me for being true to myself. But what do you think? I mean, I fell asleep watching to make sure he wasn't going to seizure or try to jump out a window or strip and run naked around campus or anything..." 

"Ahh, so you didn't ravage the little blonde boy's naked body on the rug." 

"Everything with you is ravage, ravage, ravage," Zack was grinning again. It was a good sign, it meant he was back to his normal every-day somewhat hyperactive self. "Well?" 

Freya chuckled to herself and stood, taking the knife with her. Zack did likewise, balancing the uneaten bagel half on his fingertips and slinging the pack over his shoulder with the other arm. The rat-girl deposited the dishes at the wash area on their way out and the two began a leisurely pace towards their classes. "I find it rather interesting you're coming to me for advice on your crush, but I'll give you my opinion." 

Sidestepping in front of his friend and walking backwards, Zack mock begged, clutching the bagel like it was a hat in front of him. "Oh please, great one, any advice you can give to me would be of such grand appriciation. They write ballads of thee, lady. Great plays about transvestite rock stars and webcomics bow to your glory. Advice, Lady, Advice!" 

"For one, Sir Knight, you're headed for the signpost." 

There wasn't time to make noise or turn before the metal post slammed solidly into Zack's back and head, causing the dark-haired sophmore to stagger a moment and nearly trip over the curb rubbing the back of his head. "Ow...christ... Your Fuzzyness has psychic powers. Thanks for the advanced warning. In seriousness though?" 

"In seriousness," Freya sighed deeply a moment and shook her head, hands delving into the pockets of her jeans. "In seriousness, I believe you now have an obligation to watch out for this kid. He isn't in my dormatory, so I can't do much about him. Even if he isn't gay, Zack, you know how fast this place can become a rumor mill. The last thing you want is him getting on the Dean or the Headmaster's badside, and it is only the first day of classes. If you keep your eyes open, you'll probably see him around somewhere. Just do your best to keep him out of trouble." 

Zack flopped the bagel from one hand to the other and licked where it had been on his other palm, watching Freya from the corner of his eye and speaking around his protruding tongue. "Oo, oo reraionthii aa i oin?" 

Blinking in confusion, Freya shook her head and cocked it to an angle. "Excuse me?" 

Grinning, Zack finished cleaning his hand and wiped it on the side of his pants- a pair of army issue surpluss cargos. "Sorry. I said, 'So, no relationship at this point?'" 

"It wouldn't be a good idea, I don't think. Especially since you haven't got any idea how he feels about you. Head out of the clouds, mm?" [authors note: THIS IS SUCH A BAAAD PUN! X_x] 

"Yes, mother," Zack smiled and looked skyward, the inky streaks of grey clouds having pulled themselves across the slightly blue sky like a set of dirty sheets. I pretty typical set of weather conditions for where their college was situated, not too far to the north. A few returning students passed the duo on the sidewalk and shouted their greetings and Zack responded absently with a hand wave. He'd find the callers again later and exchange better greetings when there was more time. Somewhere on campus, he could hear the extremely familiar yelps and howls of Zell, probably bored, and Irvine probably lopping afterwards without an evident care in the world. 

Yeah, it was deffinitly school time again. 

"Hey, is seriousness over with?" 

Freya turned and blinked at her companion in confusion. "I suppose so." 

Zack grinned and returned his gaze to the path in front of them. "Good, because your bagel smells funny." Without another second of hesistation, he smeared it across his face several times, making exagerated facial gestures before finally tossing it on the curb. "I _Don't Know Why!_" 

"Zack..." 

Freya spoke just a little too late, Zack had already taken off at a run down the little street lined with buildings to classes. The rat-girl sighed and shook her head, knowing that some people simply would never mature. 


	5. The Meek Shall Inherit

_Okay,_ Cloud thought shakily, trying to breath evenly to calm himself down as he walked towards the classrooms. _I can do this...Nobody knows what I'm doing, and so nobody can get me into trouble. Besides, I'm a freshman...Kuja has a point, they wouldn't be looking for us to be making trouble this early in the year. I mean...Right? Damnit.._ His hands ruffled themselves nervously into the kangaroo pouch on the sweatshirt he wore, seeking to intertwine and secretly lock together inside. Nobody had to know he was nervous when he wore the oversized shirt...red and black and seemingly made to hide in. The entire outfit, actually, one of his favourites, was built around the fact that it hid how thin and small he was in actuality. The jeans that seemed to fan out around his legs from the inside didn't make him look so damned wimpy from the outside. 

His sneakers made slight squeaking sounds as the blonde trotted over the wet grass, even the kangaroo pouch not much of a comfort. The contents weren't helping. Just a little vial, probably cocaine or something. Cloud wasn't sure, and didn't ask. It wasn't his. He was just taking it from Kuja to...someone else. He'd been described, Cloud knew the class...He just didn't know what he was carrying. For all he knew it was soap. And from nowhere, a song jumped his mind, as they sometimes did. 

_It all returns to nothing...   
Everything comes tumbling down   
tumbling down   
tumbling down... _

Cloud squinted up his eyes and tried his best to find another song that could override that one and its obnoxiously haunting melody. He didn't even know all the words, which made it all the worse. It was going to follow him all day, making him unconciously start singing the little strains when he wasn't paying attention and break out of them abruptly with a swear. Damn. He felt so jumpy... 

The hillside he was walking on towards the classrooms was sandwiched between the dorms, and Cloud looked up towards one of the ones on the far end, wondering if he should stop by. Whoever it was who had taken him back...he owed them a thanks, at the very least. Although he didn't want to admit it, or think about it, Cloud was a little frightened at the fact that he couldn't remember what had happened for most of the night prior. He'd woken up bleary and too early and only caught a few hours of real sleep in his dormitory before having to head out now, Kuja's little errand nestled into the pocket of his favourite shirt. 

His room, his dormitory. Shyeah, right. With his gothy room mate who hung up posters of fake gods and had little angsty stuffed animals and sketchpads all over the place. Black black black. Hello, my name is Vincent, I am a gothy poser. Cloud huffed slightly, wishing it was colder so he could watch his breath on the air. He felt like pretending to breath fire today. It was one of those days you just wanted to. True, he didn't know his roomie well enough to really say those things...But anyone who 'worshipped' cthulu was a moron. Vincent was probably one of those morons who hung around internet sites and thought Cthulu was an actual religion and a real 'elder' god. Probably never even read Lovecraft. _Damn, my roots show even when I don't want them too..._ He'd been a bookworm before, too. So much for former images. His index fingers interlocked inside the kangaroo pouch as he walked. 

For the most part, the day was slightly grey and a little dismal from the rain the night before. But there were people on the sidewalks that lined the roads, and the footpaths that had been worn by years of students heading for the dorms had the occasional one or two passerbys. In fact, two of them were headed at a pretty relitively quick speed towards the blonde. Cloud blinked slightly, finding them vaguely familiar but unable to place the duo even as the leader of the two caught up to him. 

"Heeey! I know you from the party, I'm Zell, hi nice to see ya again," The first of the group with short blonde hair, slightly lighter than Cloud's own, nearly threw himself down on the wet grass before cartwheeling back to his feet and offering a muddy hand towards Cloud to shake. For a moment, he ruffled his hands inside the pouch of his shirt before extending one to shake Zell's, noticing for the first time the dark and coiling tattoo on the side of the other blonde's face. Zell didn't seem to notice the stares at all. "Wow, you're a lot shyer than you were at the party. But that was probably because you were on something. No offence meant but nice to meet ya again." When the hyperactive blonde finally released Cloud's hand, he was already halfway behind him and nearly front-flipping into a roll that lasted down the remainder of the hill through the mud. 

"Don't worry so much about him," A cool and dignified voice that felt strange to hear in open air flowed from the lanky person following after Zell. A wide-brimmed hat and trenchcoat obscured most of his build, but the long hair pulled into a ponytail was striking a chord in Cloud's memory. The stranger tapped the brim of his hat and grinned, sauntering easily down the hill as he passed the blonde. "Half of what he says is to hear his own voice." 

Turning and watching the brown-clothed student depart, Cloud couldn't think of a word to say in response. From the foot of the hill, the cowboy-type raised his hand without turning and called out. "By the way, you should be looking for a guy by the name of Zachery Knightblade. If you haven't found him already," There was a strange lingering suggestion on the tail end of every sentance that made Cloud wonder if he was being hit on. 

Wiping the muddied hand on the side of his jeans and watching the two somewhat familiar strangers depart, Cloud found himself suddenly paranoid over the vial dropping out and checked compulsively for its presense...it was still there, although he wasn't certain if he was thankful for the fact or not. If it was gone...well, he wouldn't have the nagging fear over the top of his head. But he would have lost some friends, or at least what he hoped were turning out to be friends. And at the same time he would have screwed up on something that might be needed later. He couldn't remember specifics of the night before, but what he could remember was general feelings of euphoria. That didn't really seem to be like anything that needed to be abandoned. 

Inside the front pouch of his shirt Cloud's hands abandoned the little vial and hooked nails around his ID. He knew full well if he was caught that would be it, the little plastic card would mean nothing and be taken from him. That and of course his entire family, not just his parents, would kill him and bury him in the backyard behind the pile of firewood. Being treated in the same manner as a dead parakeet didn't exactly apeal to Cloud. That was, of course, the downside. 

But for now the card meant that he didn't have to worry about that. Their all-seeing eyes weren't poking into his room and following him like lost ghosts. There was no reason anyone but him had to know about what was going to happen. What he would do would go smoothly, Cloud was sure. it was too early in the year for anyone to be snooping for trouble, and this would only take a minute in any case. Hell, he didn't even need to go face to face with the person he was giving this too. Kuja had given him their student mailbox number. If the mail system had any sense at all, there wouldn't be a problem. 

Of course things are never as simple as they're hoped to be, especially for college freshman. When Cloud crossed over the hill that divided the campus and edged past some upperclassmen into the common building, the postal center inside scratched Cloud's hopes of doing this quickly. There was no mail slot on the front of boxes, nothing he could slip the vial through and run. An envelope from the counter might still make this a quick and unnoticed trip, but at first glance, no one was there. Hands still folded around the plastic ID in his pocket, Cloud did his best to look non chalant as he approuched the counter and leaned over, trying to get a good look into the mail room itself. 

"What are you doing? Allowed back here you are not!" 

The voice, seemingly from nowhere, sent Cloud jolting backwards out of the open window. He didn't have time to peer back in and look for the owner, however, because the voice presented its body by promptly jumping onto the counter with acrobatic ease. Cloud found himself looking at possiably one of the smallest people he'd seen to date that could still fit into his age group. It was the face that gave the individual away, and dated their body despite the stature. The individual, pale faced and dressed in a red shirt the same style as Cloud's, glared dangerously at the blonde and put his hands onto his hips. The excess of the red shirts sleeves folded over his hands, hiding them. "Help you, may I?" 

Shaking himself out of the shock of the midgit's sudden appearance, Cloud tripped a bit as he spoke. "Uh...yeah, I wondered if you guys had an envelope I could use?" 

The midgit sighed in an exaggerated manner, his head flopping to the side. Short and unkempt red hair dyed the same shade as the shirt fluttered into the mail-keeper's eyes. "Have envelopes we _do_, the mail room this _is_ after all." 

Cloud wasn't amused or intimidated by the sarcasm. It was hard to be intimidated by someone who was only your height because they were standing on the mail room counter. He responded by adding the same fed up acid to his own voice. "Well, can I _have_ one?" 

"Thorn, you forgot this!" Another unseen voice made its appearance before the owner leapt onto the counter with the same unrealistic ease as before. Cloud now found himself looking at a pair of identical twins, although the newer midgit was wearing a blue short sleeved shirt with a white stripe across the shoulderblades and down the arms, as well as a jesters cap coloured in various shades of the same hue. He landed with a jingle from the cap and an equally shrouded hand roughly deposited a matching red cap onto the red-haired midgit's head. 

"Forget it I did not..." Thorn muttered between his teeth, starting an argument that would probably finish itself elsewhere. Returning his attention to Cloud, the midgit gave a light glare before hopping off the counter and out of view, jingling as he moved about the mailroom. Cloud thought it slightly amusing but didn't say anything. He wasn't insensitive and knew that their height was probably a topic of sensitivity for the twins. It was pretty blaitent. 

Leaning against the side of the window and crossing his sneakers as he did so, the blue-clad jester nodded towards the blonde, his cap jingling as he did so. This one's hair was slightly shorter, more of a lightly spiked blue fuzz than his twin's. "Sorry about my brother," He explained in a nearly identical voice, save for the lack of the speech irregularities. "Neither of us got much sleep last night, and today is going to be even worse." He shrugged and moved a hand behind his head to scratch under the cap. For a minute Cloud got a glimpse of the pale long fingers beneith. "We're on a scholarship, and need to work to pay what it doesn't." 

Cloud nodded in slight confusion, already knowing he was going to get along better with this one of the twins. Still, their story seemed a little odd. "You didn't even sleep on the night you didn't have classes?" 

The blue twin shrugged and folded his arms against his chest. In the background, Thorn jingled aggressively out of sight. "We were sending out e-mails to the different work study departments and looking for local work online. And unpacking." 

Cloud internally winced at their situation. The twins must really be strapped for cash if they were giving up sleep on the first night to look for jobs. He'd probably wind up looking for them, trying to help out in a demented parody of repaying the twins for what they were going to help him accomplish. Out loud, he said, "That sucks...I hope you make it through." 

"Make it through we will," sighed Thorn, jingling by out of sight again. The red midgit seemed kind of sick of hearing about how everyone wished them luck. They probably heard it every time they explained themselves. "An option it isn't like we have." The envelope Cloud requested slapped itself flat onto the counter as Thorn jingled off again. The remaining and more friendly midgit bent to pick it up and the blonde noticed that on the back of the twin's shirt was the letter Z followed by a question mark. 

"I didn't really catch your name," Cloud awkwardly took the envelope from the jester and slipped it into the kangaroo-like pocket in his shirt. He'd have to come back later to mail it, he reasoned. 

The blue twin shrugged and waved a hand carelessly behind him. "I'm Zorn, and he's Thorn. Zorn and Thorn Andark." 

"I'm Cloud Strife." 

Thorn hoisted himself onto the counter again, looking a little more haggard and having lost the cap again. Ruffling a covered hand through his dyed hair, he looked significantly more tired out than before. "Nice to meet you it is...But work we do have," he added, glaring at his twin. "So see you later we will." 

Cloud nodded as the two twins waved and vanished below the desk again, Zorn adding to come by and visit again. If they had to work in all their spare time, it was probably only friends visiting them at it that would keep the two of them sane and away from burning out. Waving a goodbye back just in case they could see it, Cloud turned and made for the bathroom. He'd have relitive secrecy there and all he needed was a few seconds to put the vial into the envelope. 

Palm flat against the cheap wood of the door, Cloud pushed inside and nearly slammed straight into someone. He started to apologize before the someone cut him off. 

"Don't waste your breath, I was waiting for you." 

Cloud looked at who he'd run into and felt a degree of emberassment rustle through him. Seifer smirked down at the shorter blonde with folded arms. Holding out a gloved hand, the scar on his face twisted as Seifer smiled. "I'll take that now." 

"I wasn't trying to get away with it," Cloud tripped over his words too quickly, trying to find a way to be sorry as fast as he could and failing. "I just thought in here would be a safer place-" 

Seifer nodded but wasn't looking at Cloud as the freshman dropped the little vial into his palm. In fact all his movements and words seemed altogether bored with the younger man standing and apologizing profusely without saying anything. "I know what you were thinking, and it doesn't really matter. I'll take it from here and you get to ...wherever you need to be." With his free hand, Seifer unceremoniously shoved Cloud back into the hallway. 


	6. Main Offender

"Oh JESUS CHRIST that's FOUL!" 

"If you don't like funyuns, why are you eating them?" 

"...It's not like I have a _choice_, they're _there_ aren't they?" 

The day was progressing on its usual tilted scale of time, lunch being squeezed in somewhere between ten in the morning and the eleven o'clock classes Zack always wound up with. Freya was in classes too at this point, so he was lucky to even find one of his friends from last year. That was the oddest part about being a sophmore now. It seemed like he almost had to restart entirely with some of his friends, because their scheduals were so radically different. 

At the given odd lunch hour he did manage to scrape into, though, Zack's roomie went too. On top of that, there was Zik, who was a friend from the year before. The two personalities of Zidane and Zik contrasted rather intenesly. While Zidane was extroverted and involved himself in anything and everything that would be seen by people in general, Zik tended to keep to himself and speak only when spoken to. That wasn't to say Zik was the kind of person who could quietly disappear into a crowd. To say he was tall was an understatement- Zik was easily bordering on seven feet tall and towered over everyone else he knew. Despite it, he was preportional to his build albiet on the less built side. His cloths were never flashy, never drawing attention, usually consisting of a teeshirt pulled over a darker long sleeved shirt and a pair of tattered jeans. 

It was Zik's hair that really doomed him to people's attention. Bright white and reaching down to his hips, it was like a beacon to anyone within visual range. Unlike Sephiroth's hair, which was a slightly more natural silveresque shade, Zik was nearly neon white- it hurt to look at him. And since the startch white bangs framed his face, it took almost half a year for anyone to notice that he was in fact not an albino- Zik's eyes were a captivating green. 

So when Zik took a seat at the scraped twenty plus year old lunch table beside his rather cripplingly normal looking compatriots, people were bound to turn and stare. Very little of what the white haired student had to say was anything but direct and biting, but Zidane had been the first to see around that and become accustomed to what he had dubbed "Zik-ese." 

The lunch hall wasn't crowded at this point, seeing as the larger number of students made it so they would intentionally have sane eating hours when they signed up for classes. For the most part, there were only a few people with their noses burried in books, trying to figure out exactly what they'd be going into in class today anyway. They were probably either freshman or fanatics, Zack noted. He himself found it exceedingly impossiable to get a grip on what the subject material was before it was being taught. 

But then again, he was the one eating funyuns, with no idea why, feeling absolutely ill to his stomach. 

"The man who invented these was sick," he muttered, poking one of the frighteningly stiff rings around on the inside of its package. Even the colour of the bag they came in unsettled him. Yellow and green. Something just wasn't right about that combination for a snackfood. Vomit, yes. Lemon lime soda, sure. Maybe even if they were talking in terms of jello. But in terms of a crunchy, salty snackfood, something was just inheretly wrong. 

"And yet you're still eating them," Zidane's voice peirced the windowed area of the dining hall, somewhere in the midtones between scratchy and immature. It was difficult to place the accent he spoke with, but it had a distinctly urban feel to it. A theatre tech major, Zidane never wore anything particularly baggy, and his light coloured hair was usually held back in a small ponytail. It was for safety measures around the equipment, Zack knew from a semester in the lighting class. "So who's the really sick one?" 

With an exaggerated look of disgust, Zack stopped poking the ..chip..circle...things and pushed them across the table. "Deffinitly me, by this point. Jesus Herman Christ, someone take these away from me," Zik's pale hand crumpled the bag up and placed it on his own lunch tray, "Thank you, there. Was that so hard? Really." 

Sitting down and shaking his head, Zidane recognized the entire reference. "Ass," he replied automaticly before spearing a slice of pizza with a fork. As it was the year prior, Zik raised an eyebrow, but nobody said anything about Zidane's way of eating. Zack smirked, realizing that despite the inconvenience of time scheduals, things really wouldn't be that different. 

"So, I hear through a reliable white haired beauty that you've got some poor little Froshi in your sites," Zidane picked up the pizza on a fork and began gnawing roughly at the crust. His eyes looked nearly skyward as he did. 

...Or not, Zack thought with a sigh. Zidane was always prone to tormenting Freya for dates, even though he wasn't serious. As a result they had a sort of twisted version of friendship. And Zack guessed Freya had decided not to keep quiet about his personal delimea. It didn't bother him as much as it would have...after all, at least Zidane was his room mate. "Eyeah...Something like that. You know, save someone's ass and you get attached to it or something." He ran his hands through his hair and rested his elbows on the table, feeling exhasperated. This would just complicate things. 

Zidane laughed around his pizza, and Zik reclined back in the rickety lunch hall chair, his knee propped against the table. "Is he gay?" Blunt as ever, Zack noticed with a wince. Zik's voice was deep and solid, like an unamused version of everyone's archetypal father. It took some getting used to for anyone talking with him to realize Zik wasn't constantly accusing people. 

"That...is actually a problem," Zack's eyes drifted to the side, tracing down the wall of the lunch hall. Through a set of double doors into another section of the eating area, barely peeking around a corner, he could see a little flash of distinct blonde every now and again. Maybe he was wrong and it wasn't the kid he'd met. But maybe... "I don't know." 

"So ask him." Zik's frosted lime eyes searched over Zack's face a moment before following the cobalt gaze out of the room. The expression on the white haired student's face never faultered. Zidane caught on and with a raised eyebrow, followed their attention. A moment of awkward silence hung over the lunch table before Zidane put down his pizza and Zack broke his stare, smiling disdainfully. 

The blonde haired techi clicked his tongue and continued to look. "Are you sure you're not straight? Because that deffinitly looks like a spikey haired woman to me. Maybe a little on the flat side, but-" 

"And you call yourself a tail chaser," Zack laughed and reached for the crumpled bag of funyuns without noticing himself doing so, only to be blocked by Zik's fist pounding his knuckles into the tabletop. Wincing and wrestling his hand free of the pin, shook his fingers gingerly. "You could be a little less violent." 

Zidane shrugged, ignoring the random injury. Over the edge of the tabletop, a furry prehesile tail crept like some sort of trained slug and twitched. "Hey, I got it for a reason," he said with a broad grin. 

"You're getting fur near the food," Zik growled dangerously. The tail retreated and Zidane rolled his eyes, returning to his pizza. Green eyes fixing on Zack as the spikey haired student rubbed at his swelling knuckles with a forced expression of nonchalance, Zik reclined his chair to its normal position and pushed back, standing. "And if you don't know, and you won't ask, I will." 

A jolt like electricity ran up Zack's spine and stabbed him in the stomach, causing what little he had eaten during lunch recoil in a terriably unpleasent way. He was halfway across the table on his stomach with a hand out trying to catch Zik's sweater as the taller student moved away, but it was too late. "No, Zik-" His arm fell limp as he saw Zik duck to enter the room where the blonde had been sitting. "Damnit." 

"As used to your ugly ass self intruding in my personal space," Zidane said, holding his pizza above Zack's midsection which was taking up the area that his tray had occupied until a moment ago, "Can you get out of my eating spot?" 

Zack fell limp across the table and recoiled himself slowly into his chair, sliming backwards and slumping in the seat, his head flopped back and staring at the ceiling. "Fuck." 


	7. Be as

Lunch looked unapatizing, because it reminded him of earlier today in the mail room, although Cloud had no idea why. Maybe it was because they'd used the same tile for the floor of the lunchroom as the floor of the bathroom, and it was the tile that he was staring at instead of his food. His elbows were balanced precariously on the very rim of the table, the backs of his palms pressed against his cheeks as he stared down at his sneakers. 

They were too white, Cloud thought to himself. Too white, and too new, and they labeled him for what he obviously was. Inexperienced, easy, stupid. He scuffed at the toe of one with the pad of the other, dismayed that there was no visable result. He could have looked up and maybe thought about eating, because he actually was hungry, but that would have defeated the self fullfilling purpose of shoe angst. Cloud wasn't quite through feeling silently sorry for himself yet. 

_I should have taken the drugs and run or something,_ he thought to himself, replaying the scenereo in his mind. _I should have done something stupid and daring that would have made Seifer respect me and see me as more than just some pretty fucking errand boy._

The sounds of wooden chair legs scraping on tile was like a miniature symphony in the lunch room, combined with the clack of silverware and the clang of the kitchen. It was like that occasional note from some random percussion section. So by now, Cloud was used to tuning it out, because it was a good distance away. 

The scrape that brought him nearly to his feet happened directly across from him, and when Cloud stopped himself from jumping ten feet into the air, he found himself staring into the half-faced soft smile of Kuja. Blinking a few times and looking around to make sure he didn't look too much like a complete idiot, Cloud needed a moment to register this. 

"What the hell-" 

Kuja put a black, half-finger gloved hand to his lips and pursed them, closing his eyes. Be quiet. Cloud lowered his voice and glared despite himself. 

"What the hell are you doing?" 

"Coming to check up on you, shouldn't it be obvious?" Kuja was dressed differently than before, now, in a black vynal shirt that hugged the contures of his body and creased dramaticly at the crooks of his elbows. A very thin pair of sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, designed to look as though they'd slip off at any moment. The feathery white hair, however, remained as it had been, only this time not confined. One of the gloved hands moved with a calculating slowness across the table to pluck a stray fry from the edge of Cloud's plate. The presicion of his movements reminded Cloud of a panther, and of course the entire time, Kuja stared intently at the fry he was going after with his mouth just slightly slack, not even paying attention to Cloud. 

This wouldn't have bothered Cloud so much if the fry Kuja was going for in this deliberately suggestive way wasn't on _his side of the plate._ Breaking the hypnotic stalking of Kuja's hand across the table, Cloud pushed the tray towards the black clad individual, satisfied at the disruptive scratching noise it made on the tabletop. "Take it, I'm not eating." 

"Such a freshman," Kuja said softly, more to himself than anything as he abandoned tormenting Cloud via french fries. "You're going to loose weight, just like all the frosh do, because you don't eat when you have the time." 

"Why did you give me the vial if you didn't think I could take care of it?" Cloud folded his arms and sat back in his chair, glaring, his voice hissing in a whisper between his teeth. 

Kuja chuckled, turning slightly sideways in his chair and looking towards the window that faced the main street on campus. "You're so naive." 

"I'm not a toy!" 

It was like a lightning bolt had struck him. Kuja's movements and eyes were a too fast to follow. One minute he was reclining looking out the window, and the next he was leaned across the table with his hands folded and elbows propping him up, glaring with the intensity of Hellfire straight into Cloud Strife's eyes. There was no insinuation of sexuality anymore, no gaming, no torment. Kuja was showing him the collar that was around his own neck. "Make no mistake, Strife, you are most certainly our toy," His voice, the same low and sultry one that had spoken before, was now serious in a way that was chilling enough to make Cloud's stomach turn. "You made the mistake of letting Seifer have you- now you're his, and that's how you're going to stay. So either learn that," Kuja took a deep breath and closed his eyes slowly, leaning back into his chair and recoiling from Cloud's face. It was like a cat coiling back up into a sunbeam. "You either learn that, or we'll teach you." 

With a fluid movement and a practiced flick of his wrist against his hair, Kuja rose to his feet and stepped away from the table, smiling just as suggestively as ever, and began to walk away. 

Cloud put his head down on the tabletop, arms folding around him in a wall. _What the hell was I thinking..._

"Oh, and if you really want to know," Kuja's voice murmered, so close to Cloud's ear that he could feel the other's breath tickling the hairs on the edge of his ear. His shoulders coiled close to his head, but Kuja didn't back off in the least. A hand closed on his shoulder as the voice continued. "Seifer wanted to see if you'd turn him in. And you didn't. Good for you," The last statement was so sacharine Cloud felt a knot building in his throat. "Keep up the good work." 

The hand and breath withdrew, the voice silenced, but Cloud didn't know if Kuja was really gone and didn't want to risk another encounter, so he kept his face down and cheek against the tabletop, staring at the weave of threads on his shirt sleeve. His bangs hooded the world, kept it out, and that was how Cloud wanted it right now. He wanted prestige, and to be on the good side of upperclassmen, but this wasn't how he wanted to do it at all. Maybe if he could stick with it...but... 

He could hear the heavy clomping of someone either very big or very angry...or maybe both...coming towards his table, and hoped it wasn't something involving him. Hadn't there been enough torment already today? Did it have to get worse? Jesus, he hadn't even gone through the entire day yet. The boots that made the sound passed by the opposite end of the table and Cloud could hear them shift directions. He didn't want to know, but at the same time he had the sinking feeling of dread that if he didn't look, something even worse would happen. 

The person standing in front of him was probably the tallest person Cloud had seen since...Well, ever, most likely. He could have been called a giant, if he was out of preportion in any way that would have indicated a disease. There was most deffinitly something abnormal about him though. Maybe it was the hair, which was white enough to hurt when framed up against the windows outside. Maybe it was the lime green eyes that were quite intently focused on Cloud. 

Or maybe, Cloud thought dejectedly as he pulled himself back into a sitting position and stared up at this stranger, _Maybe it's the fact that he's not saying anything, but staring right at me, and he's twice my height._ He let out a sigh before speaking, not really wanting to get in any deeper than he was, but having a feeling that would soon be unavoidable. "Do you want something?" 

"Are you gay?" 

A long string of mixed reactions went through Cloud's head. The first to reach him was the indignation at being acused of it, because he didn't know this guy, and it must have been based off of appearance. That was just stupid. Under that was the realization that he didn't have much of a memory left of what had happened before dawn the night previous- and so beneith that was the truth. That he didn't know. _But damned if I'll say that to this guy._ "Who wants to know?" 

"A guy." 

"You?" 

"No," Cloud suddenly got the distinct impression that while this was the kind of guy who would be painfully blunt with you, he would also never admit or let slip anything about himself. The white haired giant made the slightest incline with his head, his green eyes never leaving Cloud's face. It was an unnerving intensity, like being pinned under glass. _At least he's straightforward about doing it,_ Cloud thought sickly, _And not like Kuja._ "He is." 

Following the miniscule signal wasn't that hard, thankfully, since the hall was so devoid of life. Through a set of double doors that his interogator would have had to duck to get past was another stretch of the hall, lined with booths and tables. The only evident occupants were a blonde with a tail and a dark haired guy who looked like he was trying to decapitate himself on the chair. 

"Taily-po?" 

"No, the idiot," There was no malice when the white haired student spoke, although his voice carried a certain gravity with it. "His name is Zack." 

"So why are you asking me instead of him?" 

"Because I feel sorry for punching him." There was that unnerving ability to say something without changing mood at all again. Despite it, the serious tone in which he had said the statement caused Cloud to snicker slightly. The nameless giant continued stoicly. "He helped you last night. You need to thank him, at least." 

Oh...So this was the guy who Cloud had woken up to curled at the edge of the bed. Shit. That complicated matters. He wanted to know, but at the same time he had an inexplicable dislike for that Zack for seeing him when he couldn't see himself. It bothered Cloud. A lot. And he didn't want to deal with having to confront that now, or ever really. "What if I don't?" 

"I won't feel sorry about punching _you._" Emerald eyes slitted dangerously. 

Cloud's cringe in reaction was fairly visable. For a moment, it looked as if the white haired student really was going to decend down on him like some twisted avenger of the sexually indecisive and beat Cloud into a new shape, but a shadow passed over the green eyes and nothing happened. Instinctively, Cloud felt himself returning to his old viewpoint, worrying about others, and wasn't able to stop himself in time. "Are you alright?" 

"Fine," The nameless white-haired one paused a moment after speaking, then reached across the table and closed his hand around the straps of Cloud's pack, lifting it towards him in such a way that he dared Cloud to even try to stop him. "Zack needs to run errands today. Do you have other classes?" 

Cloud shook his head dumbly, he'd scraped in for one of the earlier ones and the next wasn't until two. He wanted to say he was busy and go back to his room, sleep maybe, but it was difficult to say no to someone two feet taller than yourself. 

"Then you're going to go with him and help." The white haired student spoke with a certainty that unnerved Cloud and began to leave through the same double doors he must have entered. A momentary emerald glance over his shoulder was enough to snap the blonde out of his stupor and scramble to his feet, the confiscated bookbag the very least of his concerns right now. 

At least now Cloud could see what was making all the noise when the white-haired behemoth walked. This person wore steel toed work boots, possiably one of the most solid things that could possiably cover someone's feet. Cloud had owned a pair a while ago, but disliked how they confined his ankles. He attempted to keep with that train of thought, about the work boots and anything related to them -trends in grade school, raking the yard in fall- but it became nearly impossiable when they reached the circular lunch table where the tailed blonde and apparently masochistic Zack were. 

Zack was slumped back in his chair, slouched far enough down to continously lift and drop his head onto the back of the chair, thumping against it with a rough intensity, eyes closed. The white haired student put a hand between Zack's incoming head and the rim of the chair, and the spikey haired boy stopped almost on instinct with a frustrated sigh. Arms folded across his chest, Cloud could barely make out the logo on Zack's shirt. It was a character from an old cartoon he used to watch religiously on saturday mornings, and he felt compelled to say so, but was muted by the awkwardness of it all. 

Zack pulled a face and slouched further in his chair, all but disappearing under the table. "Zik, I hate you." 

"He's going to help you this afternoon." Zik didn't seem to take notice of the insult, and dropped Cloud's pack onto the table with a blaitent carelessness before taking a seat that had been already kicked out for him. Cloud, awkward as ever, reached for a chair behind him and was painfully concious of the scraping sound it made across the tiles as he brought it towards their table. When he sat, it wasn't with his feet under the table, and it wasn't exactly far away either. He hoped no one would notice. 

The blonde with the tail didn't give Cloud a chance to hope that for very long. Motioning him closer, it brought up a chorus from the others to actually sit _at_ the table with them, and not just _nearby_ the table. Cloud complied, trying to keep his eyes down at the frustrating blush that was starting to show on his face. 

"So you're the blonde kid from the party, huh?" The tailed student grinned and steepled his fingers on the tabletop, shaking his head. "Jeez, Zack won't tell us what happened. Must have been pretty bad. So- care to enlighten us?" 

"I...Don't want to talk about it." 

"And I _deffinitly_ don't," growled Zack, casting a death glare that was hard to miss towards the tailed blonde. "So let's start off on a foot that isn't broken or sprained, okay? I'm Zachery Knightblade..." He unfolded his arms from across his chest and sat up straighter, nodding quickly. It was obvious that he wasn't much more comfortable with this meeting than Cloud was. "The big guy who likes to harass hapless freshmen like yourself is Zik." 

The white-haired giant nodded in assent, but didn't crack a smile. Cloud noticed for the first time the caption on Zik's shirt read "Fly me to the Moon." For some reason, it struck him as funny at exactly that moment, and he fought to keep from laughing. The tailed student landed a harsh slap against Cloud's back that caused him to spit out the laugh he'd tried to repress. Reflexively, Cloud hid his mouth with his sleeve, worried despite his laughter that he was going to wind up a blood spot for laughing at Zik. 

"Yes, laugh. _Laugh_ at Zik's big poofy self! We all do. I'm Zidane," The other blonde extended his hand and Cloud took it, lowering his hand from his mouth and smiling. They shook, and Zidane went back to eating his pizza with...despite Cloud's initial confusion...a fork. 

"I'm Cloud," He found himself speaking with a smile, probably one of the first he'd gotten today. It was nice to think that Kuja wasn't able to hassle him whenever he felt like it. "Thanks, anyway." 

Zack smirked faintly, but refused to lock eyes with the blonde. He looked anywhere but at Cloud, the blonde noticed, and yet it didn't seem like a malicious act. "Sure, not a problem. I enjoy keeping the sheep around here in line, ya know? And keeping the kangaroos seperate from the sheep." 

"Kangaroos?" 

"Kangawho's? Kangayou," Zack looked in Cloud's direction, but not at his face, and spoke quickly with a smile. "It's pretty obvious, you know. Just like the rest of us, you're bouncing around between ups and downs." 

"Speak for yourself," Zidane raised his forked pizza dramaticly into the air. "I am a member of the illustrious Lighting Techis, and I will be on an eternal up. That up, my friends, is my Grid. My catwalk." 

"Your orgasm," Muttered Zik, nearly unintelligably. Cloud burst out laughing, although Zidane seemed to have missed the comment. Zack laughed too, cupping his hands to the side of his face and shaking his head slowly. 

They exchanged banter and jokes for a few moments, and Cloud began to feel more at home, despite the fact that as Zidane pointed out 'he didn't have a frikkin Z in his name.' When he realized that they were all upperclassmen, it shocked him slightly, but decided not to let it bother him much. When the last few precious minutes of break time ticked away into oblivion on the steel-faced clock above the lunch hall entrance, four chairs scraped back with a clatter as the group left together. 

Splitting in the hall, Zidane and Zik followed a stairwell down with a few parting insults while Cloud and Zack remained on the topmost landing. For a moment, Cloud thought they were going to continue on out the upper level doors before he realized Zack was holding his ground. 

"Look," Zack ran a hand nervously through his hair and shrugged when he realized Cloud was watching. "I didn't mean for Zik to drag you over to us. And ...Yeah. Sorry." 

Cloud shook his head and felt the awkward crimsion returning to his face. "Wasn't your fault. And thanks for ...ya know. I can't really remember." 

"You don't really want to. Didn't know where your dorm was." 

"Yeah." 

"Fuck." 

The melencholy enunciation of the swearword sent both of them into another short burst of laughter before Zack began to walk again, his hands shoved into the pockets of a pair of army issue cargo pants that looked a size too big on him. "So anyway, got errands to do." 

Cloud grinned as Zack passed him, and began to walk after, adjusting the weight of his backpack. "So let's go do them." 


	8. Humility on Parade

**note:** I'd like to point out that i do owe a great deal of inspiration and thanks to my roomie, the ever popular Zarla (whom you can find here on FF.net by typing in Zarla) who came up with the original 'college fic' idea while we were hiding in the basement of the art building one afternoon. despite the fact that she can be a dweeb and does a lousy job of sneaking out to see people i hate ¬_¬ in any case, everyone should visit her website, ashido.com. 

--------

Errands weren't exactly what Cloud had been expecting when he'd been told he was going to accompany Zack. In fact, what he'd figured they'd entail was a trip to the bank, or the food store, or picking up text books. Instead, they involved going to various offices across campus and seeing if on the second day of classes, anyone had any shredded paper in their wastebins. 

To Cloud, this made absolutely no sense. 

"Look..." The heavy wooden doors Cloud was pushing open ahead of Zack for the ten hundreth time creaked on their hinges. Once again, nothing. "Why the hell are you doing this?" 

"If I told you it was because I was an art major, would you believe me?" 

Zack was trailing behind, seeing as since both the science building and the registrar office had yeilded nothing, and Cloud was begining to skulk by the doors being the last to enter and the first to leave. The sophmore was still feeling awkward, slightly. It couldn't really be helped. While he was generally on his sleeve and loudly out in the open, he still didn't like having others point that out. Once people deduced for themselves the way he acted, felt, and existed, they would usually offer up something on themselves. As it stood, he still knew nearly nothing about Cloud. _Damn, Zik has this thing about causing problems and then walking out on them. Leave it to him to get someone ready to kill you, then just stand up and walk out, and leave that person to go nuts and tear down walls and burn things. Then he just moves on and takes over the world while they're being a distraction. Not fair, the white haired bastard, because some of us put more effort into world domi....I'm babbling again. Great._ He did his best to smile, shrugging. "Would you believe me if I said I was an art major?" 

Cloud looked back again, shaking his head, pausing on the steps before the building. His eyes were a dim blue, tinged around the edges with grey, and clear. Zack gave himself a mental slap before he lost track of his thoughts. Again. 

"Nah? Why not. I'm eccentric, ain't I?" 

Cloud smirked slightly and laughed, a choked off sort of snort that shook his shoulders. "Just because that's the way the teachers on campus decide what you must be majoring in doesn't mean it's right." 

Zack put his hands into his pockets, feeling the worn down fabric of his jeans on his skin. He had to keep them tied on, the jeans, they had been two sizes too big when he bought them last year, and it might have been his imagination, but they seemed to have gotten bigger over the summer. He scuffed at the pavement with the toe of his sneakers and looked across the small campus road. "Well, what d'you think?" 

Shaking his head, Cloud shrugged. Zack watched the blonde and noticed the spikes in his hair had changed their arrangement over the night, and that they continued to change when he shook his head. They weren't gelled down, they weren't even distinctly arranged. Cloud must have just gone at his hair without a clear aim, and had found that magical middle ground where bed-head was going to suffice for the entire day. _Stop it,_ Zack thought to himself. Cloud held up a hand, the sleeves of his sweatshirt covering his hand up until the knuckles, and pointed down the campus street. "I think you could try the medical office. They might have shredded old records." 

Zack grinned. "By jove," With two fingers, he pretended to adjust a hat he wasn't wearing. "Watson, you're a genius." He felt relieved to see that Cloud was not only smiling slightly, but shaking his head at him. 

The suspicion on shredded medical records proved correct. In order for the nurses to make room for the freshman, the charts of the previous year's seniors had been shredded. Normally, the secretary informed Cloud while Zack raided the shredder's plastic trash bag, the records would have been shredded before the start of the new year. However, the school was switching to a new server and the ensuing intranet confusion had made it hard for the mini-hospital to communicate with the rest of campus. So they were lucky, he reminded them as Cloud was hastily trying to back out the door without saying anything. Zack, trashbag full of shredded disease records wound around his left hand, was dead set on humiliating Cloud instead, and waved freely to the secretary. 

"Good night, America, and all our ships at sea!" 

"Do you ever shut up?" Cloud dug his hands into the pouch of his sweatshirt as they left the medi-building, glaring in to the side, away from the elder student. 

Zack couldn't help himself. Other people were the biggest source of amusement that had ever been invented, at least that was the way he felt. So in direct response to Cloud's question, he screamed and threw himself onto the slope of muddy grass alongside the sidewalk, using the bag of shredded paper to pillow his impact, and began wrestling with the bag. Cloud, somewhat shocked, stopped walking and turned to watch what looked for all the world like a seizure, or a very violent fight with a plastic bag of paper shreddings. Tiny strips of some alumni's medical records went skittering over the wet grass as Zack rolled over and over, thrashing with the plastic, screaming at random intervals. Just as abruptly as he had flung himself down, the dark haired student jumped up, hands on the edge of the trashbag, and resumed walking with a cheshire grin towards the freshman. 

Unable to respond for a moment, Cloud just stood and blinked. With a shake of his head, he managed to spit out, "What the hell was that about?" 

Zack, his pants and teeshirt mottled with mud, thumped at his chest. "The evil papery villian would have had me, had I not defended myself." He continued grinning and resumed walking back towards the campus center, and in the direction of the dormitories. 

There was a very blank pause from the blonde as Cloud attempted for all his life to comprehend what the hell had just gone on inside Zack's obviously deranged skull. He couldn't quite tell if Zack was insane, or eccentric, or trying to impress him...or what. He had the impression, though, that the older student did this for everyone who would give him a reaction. Cloud tried to clear his head as he resumed walking, tried to regain the jaded outlook he'd had when he first arrived. "So what do you need this crap for anyway?" 

"Gonna dump it off the roof of the campus building." 

"What?!" Cloud managed not to laugh this time, but sounded completely and utterly in disbeleif. He raised one eyebrow skepticly as Zack looked over his shoulder. 

"Yeah. We're gonna climb to the roof, and dump it off." 

"You're kidding me, right?" Cloud's voice had dropped into monotoned, his head inclined forward in disbelief. When Zack's only response was to begin to whistle and increase his pace, Cloud felt a little person inside his head fall over in frustration and disbelief. "You're not kidding, are you?" Zack looked over his shoulder and grinned, his bright blue eyes reflecting dangerously. "You're serious, aren't you? Jesus christ..." 

Cloud didn't have time to continue doubting Zack's motivations, because Zack took that moment to break into a run. Cloud, not wanting to be left behind, didn't make any effort to call him back, but instead took his hands from his pockets and broke into a run after the sophmore. The wet ground was draining downhill and onto the sidewalks, making them pool with water and reflect in some places. Cloud's sneakers hit a puddle seconds after the ripples had begun to subside from Zack's feet, the murky water cascading up and soaking into his shoes. A few students on their way in and out of the campus center stopped to watch the hyperactive duo as Zack slammed with his shoulder into the double doors of the campus center, slowing down for no one and nothing as he went. Cloud caught the door before it had time to close, held it open a fraction of a second with his left hand, and continued to chase after Zack. 

Up the stairs that lead through the levels of the center, Cloud felt the impact of his sneakers on the solid floor more painfully than outside. Past the mail room, past the book store, past the cafeteria Zack tore with no signs of letting Cloud catch up to him. The blonde was almost certain he could catch sight of Zorn and Thorn watching him from the mail room window, was absolutely positive he saw the reflection of a scar in the glass of the bookstore window as he went past, but didn't have time to stop and think about it. 

On the third floor, Zack skidded on his wet sneakers into a thin hallway built to hide the restrooms and janitor's closet. Cloud hit the wall before stopping, rolled against the plaster until his back was to the janitor's closet, and leaned there panting with his eyes shut. Zack had dropped the bag of paper in the corner and now stood doubled, hands on his knees, gasping for air as well. It was Cloud who first got his breath back. 

"Some...fucking errand," He lay his head back against the door, rolling his eyes to the side to glare at his darker haired guide. Zack looked up and flashed him a smile, shaking his head. 

"It's the stairs that're the killers, isn't it?" He took a deep breath and let it out with an exhaulted sound, straightening. "Think they put so many stairs in this building to keep us from running all over the place. Or using shriner cars. That'd be the way to get to class, if you ask me. With the fez." 

Cloud rolled his eyes back in his head. "Zack, shut up." 

"But like I said. We're gonna throw this off the roof." Zack stretched his arms and stepped closer to Cloud, waving to the side. "So outta the way, kid." 

Obediently, Cloud slouched forward and lazily threw himself against the other wall, turning to lean there. He slouched against the slick surface, his feet stuck against the floor and propping him up, though they seemed to be slipping. Zack opened the janitor's closet and propped the door open, kicking a wedge underneith that came from inside the closet. Cloud could see the closet's contents, could smell it clearly. Gallons of bleach, powdered soap, paper towels, a mobile bucket and mop, liquid soap for the dispensers, toilet paper...It didn't really look all that different from a hallway closet in anyone's house, except for the excessive amounts of the contents. Zack hooked the toe of his sneaker under the rim of the wheeled bucket and guided it out from inside the closet, humming and staring down as he did so. Cloud had the distinct impression that this wasn't entirely a reality to the sophmore, that it was all a surreal little game. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Going to analy rape you with the mop handle. They say it's quite relaxing, kind of like shoving an eggplant up your ass. Can you chill out for fifteen minutes?" Zack tsked at him and kicked the stop back into the closet, watching the door swing itself shut. Kicking the bucket noisily to the end of the hallway, he looked down a moment and then back to Cloud. "You ever skateboard?" Cloud shook his head, and Zack smirked. "Yeah, me neither. And it'd probably be a really bad idea to skateboard on a bucket anyway." 

Zack turned the bucket over, sticking its wheels into the air and spinning one with his index finger until it made a satisfying little whirring noise. He put one foot on the overturned edge, testing it. The plastic bucket bent a little, but not substantially. He turned to the blonde. "How much you weigh?" 

Cloud shook his head and shrugged, shuffling his feet to keep from slipping further down the wall. "I dunno...one fifty. One fifty five. Something in there." 

"Right, be careful then, cause this thing might not hold you." Zack stepped onto the bucket, his feet on the edges, and reached upwards to the ceiling. His fingertips brushed a string there Cloud had not noticed before. 

The blonde watched the now visable string dance around, trying to avoid Zack's fingers. "But you're bigger than me, you-" 

"I weigh less." The staircase that folded into the ceiling came down with a spring-loaded groan, resting three feet off the ground and leading upwards into a dark maze Cloud could only imagine. Zack hopped down from the bucket with one hand on the wooden hanging stairs and moved around to the front, hoisting himself up on it. The springs groaned and the stairs shook slightly as he did so. 

Cloud watched him climb. He thought about how it was strange for them to be doing this, for two students in the middle of the day to climb to the top of a building and dump a bag of paper down. He thought, this makes no sense. This is going to get us in trouble. This is going to get people thinking things about us. 

Then he realized that that was exactly the point Zack was proving, even if he didn't intend to be proving it. Kicking away from the wall, Cloud hurried to make the short jump onto the stairs, hearing them growl under his weight. Zack crouched at the top, probably in case the stairs broke. Remembering the warning, he hurried into the darkness. Zack backed up, and vanished into the shadows. Neither one of them had a light. _I had no idea the school would have built such an empty crawlspace...but I should have guessed...They probably didn't need to go up here after construction._ The stairs, with no weight to hold them down, snapped upwards with a crash like a screen door and made Cloud jump out of his thoughts. 

With the door shut, everything was dark. Cloud heard Zack's voice calmly instructing him from ahead. "Hold your hands out and sweep ahead of you. Don't wait for your eyes to adjust, there's not enough light that you'll get used to it." 

Cloud hissed back, but stretched out his arms like he'd been told. "What the hell do you think you're trying to do?" 

"Get you to the roof, unless you're afraid of getting gay germs. Know, they multiply in the dark. Turn off the light, and when you turn it back on, POOF! Billions of-" 

"I'm not afraid of you." 

"Good, because if you were I'd have to stop stalking you." Cloud felt his fingertips brush against something. It took him a moment to realize that the thing brushed back, that it was Zack's arm sweeping outwards the same as his own in the dark. Cloud stopped moving, and felt Zack's arm stop too. From the darkness ahead and slightly to his right, he heard the other student speak. "Kick me around for this one later." 

In the dark, from somewhere, Cloud felt Zack's other hand close around his fingertips tightly, palm tucking into palm. He felt panic, anger, confusion for a moment, wanted to pull back and snap out what the fuck did Zack think he was doing, what the fuck did he think Cloud was...but with all quick flashes of emotion, it passed into a numb feeling on his mind of a sort of shock. He could feel the sophmore pulling him forward in the dark, their pace agonizingly slow. Zack was whispering to him as they walked, but Cloud was barely noticing. There was a pricking feeling up his spine, pacing between his shoulderblades, and he wasn't entirely sure he liked it. 

Beyond the low thudding sound of their sneakers on plywood over fiberglass and the rustling of the trashbag full of paper, they made nearly no noise. Zack's voice whispered that they were passing over the bookstore, and needed to keep quiet unless they wanted to be caught. Cloud was in no position to argue, nor did he want to. They crept in silence through the labyrinth of crawlspaces above the campus center, half crouched over in places, Cloud forced to put his trust in what to him seemed like the blind leading the blind. 

The plywood made a thumping sound the further they walked, Cloud's skin pricking with the inherant fear of being unable to see. He tightened his fingers around Zack's hand, unable to bring himself to look to either side, to turn and look behind him, to face any darkness other than that in front of him, just in case something with glowing red eyes was there behind them. He had to break the blackness with sound, or he felt like he'd go crazy. "Hey, about last night-" 

"Don't worry about it. Look, let's not bring that up, okay?" Zack's voice was oddly deadpan, and didn't sound like it belonged to him. 

"It's not that..." Cloud went quiet a moment, trying to put his words in order. It was harder to speak while conciously trying to not sound like his former self than it was to just spit it out. He gave up. "I don't know what might have happened. I'm sorry for being an asshole." 

There was a slight tug on Cloud's hand, probably from Zack shrugging. "It happens to the most mediocre of us, you know? It's fine." His voice was still strange, flattened out. Just voices moving in the dark, the crinkle of plastic, no faces to attach to the sounds, the situation seemed surreal. It wasn't fun and games anymore, it was detatched from voluntary chaos. "It's fine." 

More silence followed, unnatural. The blonde broke it, surprised at himself. Normally he wasn't this outgoing, and he knew it. "Hey...what did you do to Seifer anyway? He seemed pissed, but-" 

"I didn't hit his face hard enough for anyone to notice. He's got too much of a complex to admit he got his ass beat down by me anyway." 

"I can't really remember-" 

"You don't want to." 

"You kicked him, right? You were throwing him around, I sort of remember...I sort of remember..." Cloud felt his voice trailing off as the fuzzy string of backwards memories lead into one another and the events of the previous night began to come into colour. He could hear Zack sigh in the darkness, and could feel his face burning with anger and emberassment at his own actions. No wonder he was only a toy to them now. 

"I told you I don't want to talk about it. You shouldn't either, so let's not bring it up, alright? Besides, it's up ahead." 

Cloud could feel his voice drifting away, distracted, his mind on a completely seperate track than the one he was pretending to run on. "How can you tell, if you can't see?" 

Again, the slight tug on his hand as Zack presumably shrugged. He could feel the older student's grip had loosened since he'd brought up the previous night, but couldn't decide what it meant or why. It felt like their roles had been completely switched, like he should be the one pulling back and avoiding conversation, but he wasn't. Zack's voice was begining to edge slightly with it's normal tones again, but just barely, as if his proximity to light had an effect on his mood. "I've been up here a thousand times before. 'Specially at night, you ought to see it sometime. I really hadn't planned on doing this, but since you started it..." 

_I started it?_ Cloud thought skepticly to himself. _He's the weirdo who had to go off like Speed Racer up three stories with a bag of shredded paper._

"Anyway, normally I'd have brought a flashlight or something up here. It's sort of a mess, cause nobody uses it half the time except students. It's a nice hidey-hole." 

Now, very faintly ahead and above, Cloud could see the edges of light trying to worm into the darkness from around the edges of black paper, probably taped to a skylight. He shook his head. "What've you got to hide from here? I mean, it's college, isn't it?" 

Zack barked a laugh, now Cloud could see his silloute faintly outlined ahead and slightly to the side, shaking his head. "You really are a froshie. Sometimes you still have to get away, Cloud. From roommates, or class, and sometimes from your friends." 

It was suddenly very obvious to Cloud that what he was hearing was not information Zack told to anyone. "How many people really know about this place?" 

The sillouete shrugged. There was a rustle as the plastic bag was put down. Cloud could see Zack's shoulders clearly now, blocky and sharp, the folds of the older student's shirt hanging loose off of them. Zack was thin, his cloths standing out simply from the shape of his body. "You and me, the maintenance people, and probably a few others. It's nice though, if you could see it. I used to draw all over up here," Zack waved his shadowed free hand around. "I thought maybe I'd be like a caveman or something, and people could learn things. So there's some stupid crap on the walls up here. But, I figured I should leave something behind, you know? In case we were taken out by a meteor within the next fifteen seconds." Zack backed up, twisting and looking over his shoulder, half his face barely lit from the escaping slivers. "What would you do, if you knew you had fifteen seconds left to live?" 

It felt as if the floor had dropped out from below Cloud. It was one thing to say those words, and to be joking. It would have been different if Zack had said those words without looking back, because his eyes, barely reflecting light, said that Zack was serious. There were no humerous undertones, no lame excuse to ask for dates, no spontanious commentary directly after to throw everything out of context. Cloud stood, silent, watching the sophmore's shadowed face, saying nothing. 

There was a different silence that held on between them. It was the uncomfortable silence between a mirror, the silence you craved for but hated all the same, because a mirror couldn't lie. Cloud felt like he could hear the echos of whatever Zack had said here to the walls in the past, to whomever had been here in his place. Their eyes indirectly studied eachother, both knowing how close they were to crossing one line too many. It was Zack who spoke, his voice cut and empty. "You don't need to be holding onto me any more." 

It wasn't as if there was an easy response to that, in any way. Slowly, Cloud let his fingers slip away until his hand was free, and he let it hang limp at his side. Very faintly in the dim light, Zack smiled. Cloud, secure inside his heavy sweatshirt, felt sick and dirty. He couldn't understand why. 

The plastic bag full of paper crinkled as Zack bent to pick it up, stood, and turned his head towards the skylight. With two fingers, he felt along the edge of the window's outline until he presumably found the latch or lock and sprung it open, more light spilling in from the edges of the blocked glass. Zack pushed the skylight open, sunlight and cool air flooding the crawlspace and illuminating the scrawled figurines on the walls. Cloud couldn't help but look at them, although he couldn't see in any detail. The bodies were distorted, limbs out of preportion, the styles constantly changing. There weren't many, those that were visable only took up small areas on parts of the walls. It was no great art, nothing fantastic or amazing, but Zack was right. It was a mark, even if it wouldn't survive forever. 

Zack himself was perched outside the skylight, leaning inward and smiling in such a way that Cloud wondered if the Zack he had spoken to moments ago still existed. The darker haired student waved his hand and motioned for Cloud to climb out into the light, and the blonde scrambled upwards. 

The sky was smeared with greys and blues, a messy pallet of someone who would never pass for a true artist. For a moment, the two of them stood, taking in the smokey sky, breathing and remembering light and colour. Zack, plastic bag in hand, sauntered coolly to the far edge of the flat rooftop, and held the plastic by its edges in front of him. Cloud joined him, his palms flat on the metal guardrail that jutted up a half a foot away from the edge. Over the railing, the plastic bag was lifted, overturned and shaken. 

The paper shreddings drifted outwards aimlessly, fluttering in all directions and spinning end over end. Some went on end, some went on flat, fluttering in a direct snowfall towards the double door entrance. A student with a thin black tail and dark hair looked up at them as the paper rained on him, but didn't say anything or motion at all. Cloud turned from watching the fluttering white slivers and studied Zack's expression, which had gone empty and drifting. 

The faintest gust of wind carried the shredded papers across the campus center lawn, but nobody was watching. 


	9. High in the Wires

It wasn't that everyone looked up when the paper strips started fluttering down that proved to be a problem. It wasn't that some people pointed, and Zack waved. It really wasn't the fact that prettymuch _everyone_ saw who did it, and Zack was easily visable from a mile away because of his hair...so was Cloud. It was more the fact that they had succeeded in trapping themselves brilliantly on the rooftop and causing a public disturbance within the first ten hours of the first official day of school. 

"Can't we just hide in the attic? You know, wait for them to go past us and then sneak back down?" Cloud was leaning against the lip of the building's concrete rail, propped up on a diagonal by his hands and looking down over the edge. 

Zack shrugged, his body slumped over the edge and his hands dangling into space. "Don't know. It's not like I've done this before." 

"You haven-" Cloud's eyes flew wide. "You son of a bitch!" 

"Golden retriever, actually. Fine breed, show quality. Had her shipped all the way from hawaii strictly for breeding purposes." Zack looked up at the blonde's face, which was twisted somewhere between complete unwilling belief and disgust. "True story, swear to god. I have my papers on file." 

Cloud threw his hands into the air. "You know, this wasn't how I planned on spending my first day." 

Flopping onto his back and staring skyward, Zack smirked to himself. "But can you think of a better way?" 

"Yeah, about twenty. Jesus Christ it's not even two thirty and we're prolly already going in for a JC." He folded his arms against his chest and hissed through his teeth, tilting back his head and looking upwards. "If you told me a year ago I'd be here now, I wouldn't have believed you." 

Zack laughed at that and sat up. "Well sure, that's cause I'd be some random S.O.B. off the street telling you your future. Besides, you can never look at where you are now and say it's going to lead to where you will be." He flicked one lingering scrap of paper off the edge of the concrete and watched it flicker downwards. A few people were still pausing to look up at them. Zack figured either whoever was sent to get them would be waiting by the entrance to the crawlspace, or would eventually come onto the roof. It was comfortable up in the open air anyway, though, and he didn't particularly want to wind up going to _them_. "The ticket to our future is always open." 

Cloud shoot him a glare. "Quote Trigun at me again, and I'll kill you." 

"Touchy," Zack raised his hands and grinned. "Lemme guess, someone in your high school kept claiming to be Vash-like, and it pisses you off by association?" Cloud snorted in response, but his eyes half-crinkled up at that. Zack lowered his hands. "Knew it. Know how? There's one in every school. Nobody's like Vash." 

Cloud shook his head as the crawlspace skylight flipped itself open and some severly irate sounding voices echoed out from within. "I don't know, I think you've given us enough crappy luck to count." 

"Hey, the building's still standing, isn't it?" 

"Get over here!" Cloud didn't have time to respond, because the owner of at one of the irate voices was hauling himself out of the crawlspace and up onto the roof, coming towards them with his hand outstretched and a severely dangerous look on his face. Zack winced and shoot Cloud a glance that he couldn't understand beyond _we're in trouble_. But he already _knew_ that. 

The man was followed by two other teachers, workers, whoevers, both of equally displeased expression. The man brushed two dangling black bangs from his eyes and glared over the edges of a pair of specticles. His entire face was pinched up, one of those faces that was far more accustomed to scowling than anything else. Deffinitly not good, Cloud thought to himself. Not. Good. At all. Very bad. In fact, that was one of those faces that would call home on you and make you talk to your parents. He could feel any previous good humor freezing up in his stomach when the man spoke, his voice equally scrunched up and angry. "Knightblade? That comes as no surprise. And who are you? Get out your ID. Give it over." 

Zack put a hand to his forehead as Cloud fished his ID from his pocket and handed it over to the man, who snatched it from his fingertips hard enough to make them sting and scrutinized it through his specticals. The other two adults were flanking him, glaring down at the two students. "Cloud Strife, eh? Well, what a wonderful welcome." His voice made it obvious it was anything but that. "Follow me." 

The two students looked at eachother, and Zack gave a pathetic shrug. It wasn't as if they really had a choice. It was obvious that they weren't about to jump off the roof, and they couldn't exactly run past the adults and escape because by now everyone knew it was them on the roof. Cloud gave a slow withering death glare, and they followed, because there was no other option.

------

"Well, Knightblade, you've been back less than fourty-eight hours and you're here already." 

The office they stood in was part of a modified church on the campus grounds, transformed some time years ago into the office of admissions. The ceilings were still high, voices still echoed, and everything was sectioned off by glass walls that weren't there originally. The desks were old, but the glass tops that left a sheen on them made the wood look new and polished, even though Zack knew from his own experience of several hours waiting in these offices that they weren't. He was used to waiting on the blue cusioned back-less chairs that lined the entrance hall, listening to everyone's voice echoing off the walls, talking about nothing that made any sense to him. 

Things hadn't changed inside the building, from Zack's point of view. It was the same woman looking at him with a tired expression on her face and the same scuffed up slate floor. He could see something, though, when the woman leaned forward. He decided to bring it up. 

"Hey, you guys got new chairs." 

"Zack, please keep your mouth shut for a minute." She rubbed between her eyes and spoke up, her voice betraying the exhaustion. "All right, why did you do this?" 

Zack spoke again, almost reflexive. "See, I was watching muppet babies-" 

"Cloud," The woman cut Zack off sharply, redirecting her question. "I'd like your version of the story, if it makes any more sense than our well known friend Mr. Knightblade." 

Cloud, slumping half heartedly, shrugged. His hands were hidden in the pouch of his sweatshirt where again and again they turned over his ID, the one that the grim-faced teacher had taken from him and returned only once they were inside this glass walled cage. "It's...we were looking for ripped up paper, so-" 

The woman cut him off again, glaring at Zack who was looking up at the ceiling, following the beams still visable there with his eyes. "Zack, you didn't bring your turtle back on campus did you? We had this discussion mid-term last year, and I'm not willing to have it again with you." He shook his head, still looking ceilingward. "Then may I inquire why you were picking up shredded paper in the first place?" 

To Cloud's surprise, Zack didn't have an immediate or flippant answer. If he had known him better, he might have realized that faced with the glass-topped desks in the converted church was one of the few times Zack couldn't come up with a blaitent rediculous lie on command. If he'd been here the year prior, however impossiable that was, he would know that Zack had spent a good portion of his free hours inside this building. He would have also known that the first time Zack came into the glass walled building, he had tried to go off on his tangents every other sentance, and nearly wound up expelled as a result. It was not a near-experience he was looking to repeat. 

But Cloud didn't see that, or know that. All he saw was Zack, who although he was orbiting planet what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you, seemed to be a generally goodhearted person and a friend of his struggling to find some sort of explanation. When the dark-haired student brought his gaze down to the woman at the desk, Cloud could see that his eyes were darting around the desk for anything that could offer an explanation that wouldn't land him in trouble...and decided to help. 

"Actually, I was the one getting the paper." 

Both the woman and Zack turned to Cloud with very different expressions. The woman seemed geniunely shocked that this _wasn't_ Zack's doing, which of course in actuality it was, and Zack seemed completely horrified that Cloud was trying to take the fall. Something about the way he was looking at Cloud was going _no no no, shut up shut up_ but Cloud wasn't paying attention to the looks he was getting out of the corner of his eye. There was a pause before the woman inclined her head forward. "..Really." 

"It was for some party that's supposed to be happening later on this week," Cloud improvised, his hands flipping the card over and over in his pocket as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up. He felt the shudder trying to get loose from between his shoulderblades but forced it to sit still, at least until he was done. "For...uhm..." 

Zack wanted to slap his forehead. No, he wanted to slap Cloud's. He was not going to try to bullshit in this place, not going to try to bullshit his way out of here, not going to try to name a name to take the heat off himself stupidly because he was a freshman and didn't know anyone yet and- 

"Seifer." 

Aw, fuck, yes he was. Zack bit his tongue and forced himself to keep from stomping, or cursing, or anything else that could give either of them away. 

"Really," The woman seemed interested now, her eyebrows went up. "Well, thank you very much then, Cloud." The blonde stiffened slightly when she called him by his first name. Shouldn't she be getting huffy and calling him Mr. Strife? "Although that still doesn't explain why you felt the need to climb three stories and dump them all over campus property. However, we will deal with this at a later date, as I am assuming you two have classes to go to...?" 

Neither of them wasted time with further arguments or bickering, both understood the fact that they were in no position to do anything. So they nodded, turned, and bolted from the building into the damp grass outside as quickly as was possiable without breaking their necks. 

As soon as his sneakers hit the half-grass half-mud, Zack grabbed hold of Cloud's arm and wheeled him around, staring him in the face. 

"What the hell were you thinking? Are you _stupid_?" 

"What? You were the one standing there with your mouth open like a goldfish!" 

"Yeah, but...Christ...Do you know what kind of _shit_ we're both in now?" 

"Bull. Less than we woulda been if you told the truth. The way she talked to you, think you have your own record." 

"That's not the point right now...Jesus, didn't you know any dealers in high school? Don't you know what you're getting into slinging Seifer's name around like that?" 

"So you're the guru on not getting into deep shit? Excuse me for wondering, but who dragged us onto the roof in the first place?" 

"Look...Don't get pissy with me. I'm not here to take your shit." Zack held up a finger in Cloud's face, glaring. "And I'm not interested in getting dragged into crap _again_ for you either, got that? This isn't magical fun and games land. You're gonna learn that the hard way." 

Cloud glared right back, his eyes icey flames. "What makes you think I don't?" 

"The fact that you threw them onto Seifer's trail in there, for one!" Zack waved an arm at the building. "Maybe you're not so aware of this, but he's got more buddies than just Kuja, and he _can_ make you sorry." 

"Sorry like you'll be for kicking his ass?" 

Reflexively, Zack slapped himself, dragging his fingers down along his face in frustration. "Look, this isn't about what I did. Once again, that's crap I'm going to take for _your_ sake. But what you did in there was stupid! It was just plain stupid, Cloud." 

Cloud closed his eyes, inhaling, trying to calm himself down. The two of them stood a moment, eyes closed, before Cloud looked up. "Well, nobody has to know it was me who said it." Zack peered between his fingers, his expression doubtful. 

"...Right...sure. We can keep this between us, and you still won't wind up a smudge on the sidewalk. What time is it?" Cloud shrugged. "Well, I gotta make another trip to the medical center real quick for more paper. Then I got classes 'til nine..." 

"At night?" 

Zack dropped his hand and shook his head, looking at Cloud in mock disgusted disbelief. "Yes, at night. D'you think this is high school or something?" Cloud gave him a look that read _don't blame ME_ and took his hands from his pockets, spreading them in a parody of vulnerability. "Anyway, if you wanna stop by after then, I'm over in Alexander, second floor, first door by the stairs on the left end of the hall. I think the number's two eight-teen, but don't quote me." Cloud nodded knowingly as Zack found himself backing away from the blonde, more in the direction of the health building. He waved carelessly. "And hey, be careful." 

"Me? I'm not the one who's got the campus mafia out to kick their ass!" Cloud smiled and shook his head, turning in the direction of the classes, wondering if he'd be early or late. 

Neither of them saw the student clad in black reclining luxeriously against one of the pine trees that grew around the building, just out of their original line of sight. Neither one saw him flick his silvery hair, straighten with a smirk, and move soundlessly in another direction.

-----------

One of the most interesting and somewhat depressing things about college is that once you enter, all your preconceptions of the place will abruptly fly out the window. Or, in some cases, run you over in a ninteen eighty five ford pickup with torn seats, and leave your mangled body by the sidewalk for someone to find five years later. The problem is that many people enter college with high hopes, and what they've read in books or heard from friends. But college does not have open minds, it does not have understanding teachers, and it does not by any means prepare you for the real world. The first week is learning that college is just a highly pretentious, overpriced, haughty version of high school that will make you rip your hair out. It isn't that you can learn things in college you didn't learn in high school- because frankly, the Yanimamo are not important to someone working as an executive in TV. College is not nessicary for it's 'knowledge.' College is nessicary to find a place in the working force of modern times, because without a degree, you're nothing. 

Sadly, with a degree, eighty percent of the time, you are still nothing. 

Cloud was about to learn this via a crash course entitled 'creative writing.' 

The class was rowdy for the first five minutes after they should have already begun, mostly because the teacher wasn't there yet. Cloud sat at the far end of the classroom, tucking himself into one of the desks. They were weird, pre-built things with a flat surface that seemed to sprout from the arm. For some reason, it wasn't what he'd pictured a college classroom to be like. He'd expected a lecture hall, or long tables where you spread your notes all around you like a sea. He'd expected, maybe, all those dusty classrooms you see in movies that take place on college campuses. But it felt and looked exactly like a more run-down version of high school. _Hell, they're even forming little cliques..._

Sure enough, on the far side of the room, several of the girl students were already banding together and waving their hands in a small area between their bowed heads, giggling and babbling. One or two stuck by the male students, prodding them and mocking them while the guys responded accordingly. Cloud shook his head and put his elbows on the desk, burying his face in his hands. 

He didn't look up when the teacher entered, or respond when people began to inch their desks into a more classroom-appropriate state. He wanted the class to be over with already, because it felt harsh and strange. He'd gone through grade school, middle school and high school with essentially the same people. He may not have had a huge amount of friends, but at least he had people he could talk to in classes. It was starting to strike him that college was like being taken to your first day of school all over again, only now you were too self concious and nervous and conflicted inside to blindly throw yourself at someone and ask to be friends. He wanted to be back outside. To... 

Cloud's thoughts were interupted when someone prodded his arm with a stack of papers. Even through the fabric, he felt their edge prick him, and lowered his hands. The red haired girl on his left was stretching across an empty desk and shaking the papers somewhat anxiously. He wasn't exactly sure when it happened, but the teacher was standing in front of the class by an old desk like the one in the glass-walled building. He was frumpy, and probably going on about something Cloud was obviously not hearing. He flopped one arm down and took the papers, pulling one off the top of the stack and passing them onward. 

A sylabis. Cloud dragged his eyes over it a few minutes. The teacher's name was Tellah. This was Creative Writing. No shit. It met on this day and that day and this many stories counted for this grade and this that the other thing...Tellah was talking about how in order to write dialog, people should evesdrop on one another. Cloud stuck the paper under his elbows and folded his knuckles against his forehead, staring at the shadowy words. His stomach hurt. Too many assignments, way too many dates, too many things his grade depended on. Even though they were all split up, every single one seemed to be worth too much. He could feel pain scratching away behind his eyes. 

None of it mattered, he told himself. It was stupid and inane and all the assignments were overly juvinille and biased and the same crap he'd done in high school. None of it mattered, and they all mattered too much, and the class was dragging on, and Tellah was saying writing was very important and he would be checking a journal they kept. 

Damned if _he_ was keeping a journal... 

Someone hadn't showed up for class, and Tellah called their name a few times over. Sidney Highwind, Sidney Highwind, oh, I guess he isn't here. Cloud dug his nails into his scalp and continued to stare at the paper. The letters had a glossy finish, fresh ink, and he thought they must feel like plastic. Staring in close, he could see where the ink had seeped into other fibers. He wanted to have something else to do, to concentrate on, but his backpack had nothing in it but his schedual...He wanted a distraction, he wanted the class to end. He wanted to go someplace else. 

He wanted to see Zack again. 

Cloud thought his head was going to shatter and spatter on the paper, seeping along the same threads of pulp as the ink, when Tellah took in a long sigh and announced the class had ended. Letting go of his hair, Cloud swept the sylabis into his backpack and swung it over his shoulders. He'd never look at that again, he sure. Nobody in the class said anything or looked at him when they pushed past eachother into the hall, nobody held the door or asked him what he thought of Tellah when his sneakers hit the concrete steps. Cloud watched the cracks in the sidewalk and his sneakers swinging forward over them, the slight fray on the ends of his jeans. His hands were in his pouch again, turning his ID over. College was new, but it wasn't new at all. It was just forgotten, and he was changed. 

Maybe he was stupid trying to act like someone he'd never been. But Zack was the idiot who had obviously pulled some stupid stunts the year prior...so what did he know? 

He knew how to make Cloud not feel like he was completely cut off from the rest of the Human Race, for one. 

Looking up, Cloud was certain he could hear electricity in the wires that criss crossed the campus road. A couple of starlings covered the wires, making their peculiar cries and taking off in billowing clouds when something startled them. He sighed, and continued walking. 

Days were still days, and there wasn't an option but to go through them and do the best you could in the process. If they meant anything at all...

----------

When classes finished sometime after five, Cloud wasn't feeling remotely as high-spirited as he had with Zack. Even though the dark-haired idiot had gotten them in trouble, and started arguments, and ranted like a schizophrenic, he had somehow tapped into good moods Cloud had forgotten he'd posessed. 

He didn't want to go to his room, his keys felt alien when they hit the lock and turned. They weren't his house keys and it was starting to strike him that here wasn't home. _No shit, Strife. Stop being an idiot..._ At least Vincent wasn't in, he saw when the door finally let itself be opened. There was something that continued to gnaw at his stomach when he looked into their room, though. It was his own fault for it, but Vincent's side of the room was the one he first saw when he came in, making it feel even less like his own living space. Throwing his backpack onto his unslept-in bed, Cloud wondered if he'd ever get used to this. 

Well, there wasn't any point to thinking about it. He was here, at college, there was no getting out of that. He had even less desire to go back home and listen to his father call him an idiot for four years while his mother stood stoicly by. It made him want to hold his head just thinking about it. _Show me hell, and this is granted as Eden...Oh fuck it...I need to stop thinking._ Running a hand through his hair Cloud thought about the boy he left alone in the airport bathroom. Would someone have taken him home, would someone have talked to him in class? _Forget it, I know the answer. It's always been 'no,' and it always will be 'no.'_

He needed a shower, that was a solution. A bad one, because he knew standing alone in the bathroom wasn't going to stop him from thinking. But at least it wasn't standing in a room that didn't belong to him. And besides that, he felt dirty, and was wearing the same cloths from yesterday. Rubbing the spot between his eyes, Cloud let out a sigh. He wanted anyplace but here so badly, he could taste it. _Actually, that's probably hunger...haven't eaten since morning..._ He moved awkwardly around the bed, crouching and rooting through the still-packed boxes he'd shoved underneith. Kicking one roughly with his hand clamped around a grey handle, Cloud freed a scratched and battered cheap CD player with half-peeled off stickers along its exterior. Bands he hadn't even known at the time, but had gotten stickers of for free at the store. Most of them he hadn't even turned out to like, but... 

Flipping the lid of the player up, the same old mangled CD bobbled on its axis inside. Flytape. EP. Cloud rooted through more boxes until he had a handful of clean cloths and a container of shampoo, and left the room with the door ajar, his sneakers making the dormitory floorboards squeal. Leaning his back against the bathroom door, he swung inside, feeling something inside gradually begin to turn off. 

Plugging the CD player in and propping it up on the tilted wooden bench along the shower stalls, Cloud threw his clean cloths on the floor and began to shed the cloths from the day prior. His sweatshirt landed in the same pile as the clean cloths, the teeshirt he'd worn underneith and his jeans flying and slumping lifelessly on the bench against the player. Gradually, the bassist of the band on the CD started, although the track skipped lightly at first. Cloud waited with a hand against the fiberglass side of the shower stall a moment, listening to see if the player was going to continue to cooperate. The guitarist joined in, and he dropped his hand, satisfied. 

_I can see us wired in summertime.  
Riding our bikes, commiting the same crimes._

Cloud left his boxers on until he'd pulled the curtain shut. He didn't know why he felt so paranoid about his own body in this place. Probably because it wasn't home, he thought to himself. The floor was cold and damp, his hands getting a shock of cold when his foot brushed his thumb. The blonde cringed to himself, trying to let the music take his mind off the completely alien shower, and tossed the boxers over the edge of the stall and hopefully clear of the water. The pipes inside the walls squealed when he turned the water on, Cloud could swear he felt the wall itself shudder before the spray hit his back. He hunched his shoulders and gritted his teeth, adjusted the tempurature until it was slightly more bareable, and flattened his palms against the wall, letting the water run down his back. 

...Okay. So. He'd gone to his classes, and he was absolutely sure there was no humanly possiable way to pass half of them. Was it that other people cheated through this, or was he just stupid? He was probably stupid. No, that didn't quite figure right. As much as he wanted to stand there and insult himself, it wasn't exactly going to work. Hell, he may have not gotten absoloutely stellar grades in high school, but something he'd done in applying had gotten him a scholarship somehow. So... 

_Something musta been not quite right with you.  
We're all a little crazy but we keep it inside._

Fuck it. College wasn't for him. Cloud looked up into the spray of water, feeling it hit his hair and run against his scalp. He ran his hands through his hair roughly, feeling it go limp under the water and seeing droplets flinging against the walls. Even with all the dizzying paranoia that he was letting get loose in his head, it felt good to be standing under the warm water. 

It felt nice to wash his hair, because he hadn't realized how dirty it'd gotten, or how strange it felt to have all the odd cuts brushing against his hands at the same time. The song hummed onward, Cloud's mind wasn't even registering it anymore, he'd heard it so many times. But if he shut his eyes, he could pretend he was at least back home, and that was good. Even if he couldn't do well in the classes, he told himself, he would be alright at least for one term. That was the way it was in college nowadays anyway...The teachers and schools wanted to look good, so they gave you good grades, even if your work was crap...right? Who cared, there were probably a few professors here like that. The soap made his skin feel tight, but it was something familiar. An oasis. He was alone in the bathroom, everyone else either in a class or at dinner like sane human beings, but he had this time and place to himself. 

_I think I broke the top strings off adolesence,  
I can feel our laces break as we jump over that great fence..._

It would be okay. It was going to be okay. It would be... 

"Hey, Strife, you in here?" 

Banging door. Thump-clink of steel toed boots. Voice magnified off the tile walls the same as earlier today. Oh, shit. Think, Strife, Think. You can't say it isn't you, your cloths are right there, same ones as before. Stay quiet and he's going to get pissed and that's deffinitly not something we want. Fuck, fuck, fuck. There really isn't a way out of this one...he could have at least waited...why the fuck is he in here at this time anyway? Out of time..."Yeah." 

He could hear Seifer pass in front of the speakers of the CD player, the music waivering around the other student. Between the water hitting his skin, hitting the floor, hitting the walls and the music, Cloud could barely hear. It didn't seem to matter too much, because a moment later Seifer had the music cut off and was speaking plently clearly enough to be heard over the water drumming on Cloud's skull. 

"Shame you didn't show up at dinner. Me and the guys were waitin for ya. So, what happened with that, hmm?" Cloud tried not to listen too closely, tried to believe that the tile walls were echoing and distorting the voice, but it was pretty damn obvious. Seifer was not exactly wowed by him at this moment. But how was he supposed to know that? Nobody had _told_ him to show up to dinner, he was tired, he was beat down... "Well, I guess I can forgive you this once." 

There was no way in hell he was going to be able to finish showering with Seifer talking to him, he knew that right now. His hands were already gripping the knobs, knuckles white. The muscles in his arms felt tight. Trying to keep from shivering. Hands shaking, he shut off the water and stood dripping. Shit, shit, shit. "S-" _Don't stutter, you fucking idiot!_ "Sorry bout that. I didn't know you needed me." 

Seifer's voice dropped the harsh edge just slightly, like someone lowering a sword, but it was still in their hand. "Ah, it wasn't simply a matter of _need_, Cloud. We _enjoy_ you around." Cloud fished a hand around beyond the curtain barrier until he caught hold of his towel hung on one of the wall hooks and pulled it inside, wrapping it around his waist. Seifer paused a moment while the towel disappeared, and continued when Cloud emerged. "...I do anyway." 

_Hell, that was a pass. This is not going to be a repeat, no way, I don't ...I'm not...Not in here. No way. Not with him. Hell, like I could fight him off if he really was determined. Yeah, right..._ "I'll...try to make it from now on. I just don't usually eat dinner." _Brilliant lie. We are so dead._ Cloud found himself fiddling with the edge of his towel without noticing, and forced himself to stop. This was not. Good. "What's happening?" 

Seifer didn't seem to be the least bit affected by the fact that Cloud was standing in front of him in a towel. Hands splayed on either side of him on the slanted bench, Seifer stared with a horrificly disturbing calm expression. "Glad you brought it up," He addressed at length, propping one foot up on his knee. "You wanted an errand, right?" Cloud nodded obediently. "Good, get your pants on." 

Cloud hesitated a moment before picking his clean cloths off the bench and begining to dress, dropping the dusky blue towel on the floor. It didn't matter, he reminded himself. It wasn't anything Seifer hadn't seen before. 

_GOD. DAMNIT._

Seifer didn't move, only following Cloud lazily with his gaze out of the corner of his eye. Cloud could see now that the way Seifer was sitting was strange, propped up gingerly...probably still feeling the beating Zack had given him. But this wasn't the same. Kuja had come to him, Seifer had trusted him, just so long as he didn't bring up one to the other he should be okay. He should be good, fine, even if it also meant being their toy...Hopefully just a windup toy that ran across the room. Cloud didn't want to keep thinking and bent to pick up the dirty cloths bundling them under his arm. Seifer waited, his eyes still tracking the dripping blonde as Cloud reached to unplug his CD player, coiling the wire around his wrist. 

"Let's go then." Cloud's fingers had barely closed on the handle of the CD player before Seifer was on his feet, hands pushing back the white trenchcoat that obscured most of his body and nestling into the pockets of his black jeans. Cloud looked him up and down a second before choking off a sigh. Great...yeah...Seifer was deffinitly capable of beating his ass down. How had Zack gotten the better of him? Christ, Zack weighed less than _he_ did, he'd even said it. 

And why, why, why, did Seifer have to be just that _tiny little amount_ taller than Cloud, because it mattered in situations like this where he was hunched over carrying a CD player and an armload of laundry, towel and shampoo. No escaping this, anyway. Turning away from Seifer, he pushed the bathroom door open and wandered into the hallway, hearing the boards squeak again behind him as Seifer caught the door and followed. Cloud could feel the emptyness of his stomach suddenly, and he wasn't sure if he was thankful for it or wanted the feeling to go away. His room wasn't far, but now Seifer knew where it was..._Forget it,_ he reminded himself. _He must have known where it was in the first place, if he knew to look for me here._

The CD player went on the bed, bounced slightly. Dirty cloths landed on top of it. Keep it mechanical, keep it cool, don't think and don't panic yourself. Seifer was leaning in his doorway, looking around the room as if assessing it for his own living arangement. Cloud looked at the floor and shut his eyes, kicking fear back down into his stomach where it couldn't touch his brain. "Alright, ready." 

"Keep up." Seifer pushed away from the doorjam and turned his back. Cloud followed. 

They exited the dormitory, crossed the grass area around the freshman student housing. Past the classrooms, heading clear across campus to a house that, while the door wasn't exactly torn off its hinges, had deffinitly seen better days. Seifer flicked a cigarette he'd lit while walking from between his fingertips, not paying attention to where it landed on the sidewalk. Cloud couldn't remember seeing him actually inhale from it, or not. The elder student cast a glance at him, his voice disinterested. 

"This is my place, right? You need anything, you come here," Seifer raised a finger, "If you're in trouble, you stay clear of here. Got it?" Cloud nodded sullenly. "Excellent. C'mon then." 

The steps grumbled violently when Cloud's sneakers hit them, the nails holding them together probably having rusted about fifteen years ago when previous occupants graduated. Biting back a sigh, he noticed a faded sign hung besides the door that read 'eco-living.' Heh...That was almost funny, in a terrificly demented sense. He wasn't going to stay, he told himself. He was going to stick around for five minutes, and leave. He at least would be able to tell that to Seifer. A moan from the door greeted the two blondes. 

Looks can be deceptive, and the interior of the house didn't match its run down exterior. Inside, the walls were papered or painted, the floor carpeted and kept relatively stain-free, considering it was a college campus house. The furniture was worn down, but not dead, and there was music. Life. Not like at the party the night before, but normal life. Normal music. For a sick moment, Cloud thought his fear was going to break out and he was going to have to hide it somehow, because the eco-house made him feel disgustingly homesick. Slouched in a chair at the far end of the living room, against a wall between two stairwells that probably lead to the same place, a face Cloud was all too familiar with lazed. The eerie eyes locked onto Cloud from underneith feathery white bangs, and he knew he was doomed. 

"Well, well. It's nice to see you again, Cloud." Kuja put a tension on Cloud's name that scared him. Deffinitly not hostile. But not...good. There was something in the way he was staring this time that didn't have the same sexual aura as before. "I wasn't sure if you'd be able to make it," His voice drolled onwards lazily. The tight black fabric of the pale man's clothing shimmered in an unreal irridecent way in the house's lighting. 

"Seifer caught up with me," Cloud was speaking without thinking. Good thing too, because if he'd thought, he would have wound up saying something stupid or biting his tongue. 

The taller blonde nodded and turned an abrupt right, through one of the house's ground floor doorways and motioned over his shoulder for Cloud to follow. Although Kuja's eyes pinned him against the wall with their half-lidded gaze, Cloud broke himself away and followed Seifer. The room adjecent to the main hallway was the kitchen, somewhat cramped and with archaic appliances, but not bad at all. Cloud couldn't help himself and poked at one of the plants lurking behind the sink, sucking up the scant sunlight filtering in from the far wall. Seifer looked over his shoulder from where he stood and smirked. 

"Like I said, you ever need anything, you come here." Turning again, Seifer opened one of the cabinets and ran his fingertips along a row of canned food until he hit one that, for some magical reason, looked different to him. Lifting the can, Cloud saw it was actually cut open at the bottom and inside was something you had to be a bloody idiot to not know was deffinitly _not_ baby asprin. 

Cloud would have started panicing furiously. He would have probably been stupid, and gotten into trouble, and stuck around until the next morning and repeated mistakes over and over, but fate had something else in mind. Seifer picked up a sandwich baggie with the little white pills and dangled them in midair, shuffling the others under the can again with a free hand and not looking at Cloud. "You wanted to be trusted, so here ya go. Now listen," He closed the cabinet and turned, lowering the baggie. "You fuck this up and get caught, I had nothing to do with it, and we will not be doing buisness again." 

Without knowing any other reaction to the situation, Cloud snatched the baggie from Seifer's hand and pocketed it. He could feel his heart beating against the fabric of his clean shirt. "You told me before, I haven't forgot." 

Seifer's hands went into his pockets again. Serious faced, the other blonde nodded to him. "Better not have. Now this isn't yours. This is mine. You're holding onto it, and getting rid of it. For me." 

"I-" 

"Do you have a problem with that?" 

Cloud shook his head. 

"Nice to know. Look," Seifer's eyes wandered to the window on the far wall, where light was just starting to slant orange through the glass panels. "Best you get lost, now. I don't want too many obvious connections. You understand, right?" He barely looked at Cloud when he spoke the last line. Cloud didn't bother nodding again, his heart was beating too loudly. All he could do was thank whatever luck he had for this break. Yes, it made sense, and he was _extremely_ glad it did, because it worked in his favor. 

So he took the opportunity, didn't say goodbye, and left. Kuja's eyes tracked him out the door, Cloud could feel them like little fingertips on his shoulderblades. 

"Be seeing you again tomorrow, then, Cloud." Kuja's voice seemed to chase after him mockingly as he tromped down the old wood steps and left the eco-house behind. 

So what now? Dinner was probably over, Vincent was probably back, and he did _not_ want to run into that guy any more than he had to. He couldn't go back to Seifer's. Well, he could, it just wouldn't be good. He couldn't keep wandering around outside. Once again, he could, but it felt like he was wearing a glowing red sign for any campus security or local cop on their way through to pick up on. Again. And this time, it wasn't as if he could get rid of the burden straightaway. And..just...crap. Cloud wasn't sure, but he was pretty damn close to sure that a sandwich baggie full of E wasn't anything he wanted to be paying for out of his own pocket. So, he had to get out of the open. 

He could go up to Zack's room, it wasn't _too_ far to the sophmore dormatories...He could even see them from where he stood. But..._Hell, who says he has to know. It'll just be safer. Get somewhere that you won't keep calling attention to yourself, and it'll be fine._ Taking a deep shuddering breath, Cloud headed for the dormitories. 


	10. All the Madmen

The Alexander dorm was nothing impressive. It sat squat compared to the looming, elder dorms on either side of it. But the windows were actually storm windows, with screens and one solid pane instead of the tons of little ones that the older dorms had. Cloud knew from his own house that older windows did _not_ keep in the heat...so it didn't look like Zack's dorm was too bad a choice to live in. The door handle felt slick in his hand, chewed down by infinate hands over previous years. Everything on the campus stunk of people who'd come before, and gone on, and... 

A smell entirely unlike anything Cloud had ever attempted to smell hit him as soon as the door opened. With it, a thick, acrid smoke billowing down the hall. It took him a substantial amount of time to _sort_ of identify it as burnt popcorn, but by then he'd already pulled the collar of his shirt up over his nose. Why the hell weren't the fire alarms going off? Why the hell was popcorn on _fire_? He did his best to not think to hard of it, entered the dorm, turned a sharp left away from the origin of the smoke and made for a stairwell. 

One story up. First door. Cloud pounded his fist on the thick wood a moment before the knob clicked to the side in front of him and opened. Standing in the doorway was Zidane, his shirt also up over his nose, waving franticly inward with his hand. Cloud looked down the hall a moment and ducked inside. The door slammed shut behind him. 

For one, Zack and Zidane's room was far smaller than Seifer's house, obviously, if that wasn't stupidly obvious. The walls were completely covered, every spare inch, with magizine clippings, computer print outs, and posters. The ceiling light was either blown or off, and most of the light in the room came from a series of christmas lights strung back and forth across the ceiling. Their beds were pushed against opposite ends of the wall, two desks against the wall between them. The room, actually, was of the same makeup as Cloud's own. The closets on the far wall, the flat dresser area. The difference was in how the older students presented it. 

Reclining dangerously far back in a chair, his head hanging lazily over the back and hands dangling in the air, was Zack. The window was open, and a large plastic square fan was jammed in its frame. Cloud guessed it was to get rid of the burning smell that was permiating the dormitory. But, "What the hell is making all that smoke?" 

Zidane pushed past Cloud, his tail slapping against one of the bedposts as he went. "Art students," He replied cheerfully, plucking a jacket off his bed and a backpack from underneith of it. Cloud looked at the blonde techi for a further explanation, but Zidane just shrugged and brushed past him again, backing to the door. "Catch you two later," He declared, waving a free hand. 

Zack flopped his arm lifelessly in Zidane's direction, probably an attempt at waving back. "Have fun." 

"Ah, with a musical? We got an old solution for those." Zidane grinned, opening the door. "Gasoline on the gel frames!" And with another wave of the acrid popcorn smoke, the tailed wonder was gone, the door clicking behind him. 

There was a slight moment's hesitation before Cloud opened his mouth, preparing to ask a question, but Zack cut him off. Lifting his head and sitting up normally, he volunteered the answer Cloud was thinking. "Gel frames go on the front of the theatre lights. If you put gas on them, the heat from the lamps would catch on fire, and drop on the actors," He shrugged and chuckled slightly to himself. "Techis are sort of bitter towards musicals." 

Cloud was taken aback by this little insight into the theatre world, because in his mind, the stage crew and the actors had always gotten along fine and were in agreement. So the fact that there might be some points of tension or bitterness was slightly surreal, especially to hear that one side was plotting to rain fire on the other. So his response, understandably, was, "Oh." 

"Don't look so shocked, it's only a joke," Zack actually looked surprisingly worried about Cloud's reaction. He picked one foot up off the floor and folded it under himself, holding onto his knee. "Seriously, techis are good guys. You should get into it sometime, maybe." 

"Are you in technical theatre?" Cloud tried to shake off the feeling he'd just been pulled out of reality into a little rabbit hole. He wasn't exactly sure after just hearing that techis often thought about setting other people on fire that he wanted to be involved, and knowing Zack, he could be completely making it up anyway. 

Taking a deep breath, Zack held up a finger and looked very seriously at the blonde. "Maybe." 

Cloud raised an eyebrow curiously, but Zack offered no further reply. In fact, the only thing he did do, was wave his hand in the same limp half-alive manner he had done to Zidane and tell Cloud he was welcome to throw his bag on the bed and take a seat anywhere. 

"Anywhere but the ceiling." 

"Gee, thanks. That was my first choice," Cloud tried to keep his sarcasm out of his voice, wondering if he could meet Zack on his same level and rant nonsensically. "Whenever I get stressed out, I just shoot _right_ up onto the ceiling and start wandering around. It's refreshing, being upside down." It was comforting to hear that Zack was laughing to himself as Cloud crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, curling his feet underneith himself. Zack's laugh wasn't earth shaking or rachous or amazing or anything...if anything it was subdued. But at least it wasn't a glare. 

Zack stood and made a sweeping motion towards Cloud, indicating he scoot over a bit. The matress squeaked as Cloud moved, made a groaning sound somewhere in the metal springs. The dark haired student flopped stomach first onto the bed, his feet stretched out, soles in the air. Twisting his arm as one only does when flopping around on a bed, Zack reached between the wall and the mattress, pulling a thin black object free with a scraping sound of plastic on drywall. Cloud realized it was a laptop. It had probably slid behind there during the day, the blonde reasoned. Zack made another shooing motion and Cloud moved aside as the sophmore wriggled his entire body onto the bed and lay on his stomach, opening the notebook. 

"You got a computer here? What's your e-mail?" Zack had to turn his head to talk to Cloud, who was now nearly falling off the bed, perched on its edge. "Oh come on," He rolled his eyes. "Don't be an uke about it." 

Cloud raised an eyebrow, only able to guess at the meaning of Zack's words. "A what?" 

"Uke. It's a fangirly term. Look, I'll speak English," Zack folded his arms under himself, propped up on his elbows and closed his eyes to speak with exaggerated slowness. "Cloud," he started. "_Don't be a pussy._ Sit someplace where you're not falling off the bed." 

"Fuck you!" 

Zack smirked and shook his head. "Come on, you look stupid. Sit someplace where you don't have to pull a balancing act." 

Cloud started to leave the bed, had one foot on the floor with full intentions of going to sit on Zidane's mattress. He was going, when Zack reached out and tugged at his arm. 

"Nonono, don't go over there. I'm not gonna shout to talk to you." 

"Well where do you want me to go, then? I'm not sitting on the floor-" 

The dark haired student released his arm as his face split into a grin. "Well, at least we're not going to enact 'Citizen Kane.' So sit on the bed then." 

There was a little dangling string in the back of Cloud's mind, right between everything else. It was a giant annoyance. It was exactly what Zack was being. A damn pointless dangly obnoxious string. "You're taking _up_ the whole damn bed _lying_ on it." 

"So sit on me." 

Cloud wanted to slap himself. Zack's logic seemed to be rooted in the learning of camels from Jupiter. It would have been a self prepetuating cycle to argue. It would have been an even bigger argument to just sit on the floor or the other bed. So, giving up and giving in to the faulty logic, Cloud picked himself up and turned around, sitting on Zack. Right in the center of his back. For a moment, the sophmore made a grunting sound and Cloud could feel him trying to breath at the same time someone was squashing him. Well, who cared. He was the idiot who started it. 

"See," Zack said after he got his breathing back under control, "It's better, right?" 

Cloud rolled his eyes. "You're off your fucking nut. What if Zidane walked in?" 

"He'd probably tell us to open the windows afterwards." 

"...I hate you." 

"No, you don't," Zack laughed quietly, letting it shake his shoulders where it wouldn't hurt from Cloud's weight. "C'mon then, what's your e-mail?" 

It was made very clear to Cloud when he left home he would not be taking a computer with him. He hadn't had one at home, why should he have one now? His mother was vehemiently against the machines, his father kept his own locked away in the office. Cloud's only real experience with computers had been on the frustrating and severely restricted machines in his high school computer lab. Why he couldn't take one to college, he couldn't readily explain. His parents' excuse was that he'd use it to play and never get any work done. He'd gotten through high school writing his papers by hand, he'd use the goddamn dictionary if he wanted to check spelling. So... "I don't have one." 

"What?" Zack seemed genuinely shocked. Cloud wasn't surprised at his reaction...he'd seen it before from the few fair-weather friends he'd had. "That's insane. Why not?" 

"I don't have a computer." 

There was a pause where Zack looked over his shoulder before turning back to his laptop and giving a shrug. "Well, that'll do it." There was another silence in the room, one with only the tiny pumping sounds Zack's fingers made on the laptop keypad and the scraping of his fingernails on the touchpad. Cloud glanced at what he was doing, but didn't recognize the website he was at. No surprise there, either. Cloud hated his parents more every ten minutes. He'd managed to just get himself alienated from someone who had insisted he _sit_ on him. What the hell...just because he had no computer. Cloud put his hands down on the bed on Zack's other side, leaning until his head rested against the wall. This was retarded. And Zack was really boney and felt weird to sit on. He could feel the dark haired man's ribs slithering under his skin when he breathed. Eerie. 

"Can I ask," Zack spoke after Cloud's head connected with the wall, his speech now broken up, though it could have been from either distractions at the computer or from Cloud crushing the air out of him. "Why not?" 

The blonde shrugged, rolling his head against the wall. He could hear the sounds his hair made between it and his skull. Though he couldn't see it, he guessed that his hair was fluffed out like a malformed dandylion after that shower. "I never had one. Parents would never get me one." 

Zack snorted. "That's balls." With both hands, he reached up and folded down the laptop, its screen slowly winking away until it was just a thin plastic square again. Zack pushed it away and lay on his stomach unmoving and silent a moment. Cloud watched, shrugged again, and looked to the far wall. Zidane's posters had a theme to them. That theme was 'theatre ladies.' Cloud didn't know a lot about theatre, but there was really no way to mistake the Phantom of the Opera. Who knew when the poster was from, but a busty looking girl was running from the ominous masked figure in the background. Other poster and clippings showed a heavily makeuped man and a done up dancer together, a bunch of art-student looking guys and equally bohemian girls. Maybe it should have struck him as odd, that he was sitting on someone who he knew was gay, staring at pictures of hetero relationships. Maybe. It just felt detatched though, like walking into a room and seeing it through a glass box. Everything was an arm's length away. 

It felt eerie, it felt good, Zack breathing. He could feel him begin to talk, it vibrated down through his body and buzzed against Cloud's skin. "Look...I need to tell you about something." 

It should have felt odd... 

"I'm not good at talking about this stuff. I wanted it out, like in writing, so I don't sound like a moron. Listen..." 

He was listening anyway. 

"Shit...I like you, alright?" 

No shit. 

"I like you, and I don't want to see you getting hurt. I don't mean beat to snot either. But this isn't a safe place. The school I mean. There's these guys...the Weapons. They're not...Look, you'll know them if you see them, and they're _really_ fucked up. There's that...There's-" 

Zack wasn't making sense. He was right, it would have been better to get it on paper. Cloud couldn't understand him very well, other than the fact that he was worried for his wellfare. He knew that already, too. Where was this going? 

"Cloud, keep away from Seifer, okay? That's what I'm trying to say. He's just-" 

Hold the phone. That came out of nowhere. "What?" Cloud sat up from the wall and stared down at the back of Zack's head. "What the hell do you mean? What the fuck do _you_ know?" 

"Look, it's just...he fucks around with you. It's just not a good idea to-" 

"Yeah, _you_ maybe. But no offence, I'm nothing like you." 

"Sure, _now_...Listen to me." Zack seemed to come out of the shakey state he had been trying to speak with, his voice deadpan. "I used to date him. I _know_ what he's like, and I know the way he opperates. You just don't want to get mixed up with him. The minute you piss him off, you're fucked, end of story." 

Cloud snorted and leaned back again. "Which is why you beat the snot out of him, right?" 

Zack's voice raised into the joking territories again. "_I_ can handle myself, kid, _you've_ already gotten wasted in front of one of the biggest narks on campus." 

"Bitch, bitch, bitch." 

The sophmore sighed, Cloud could feel his muscles working to pull the sigh off and lift him at the same time. "Seriously...I can't stop you. I won't try to. I'll warn you is all. Help you if I can. I'm worried for you, alright?" 

The person he'd picked up at the airport and exchanged for the scared boy with the evenly cut hair wanted to take this and use it to his advantage. But Cloud was begining to realize that certain parts of that person, he didn't like either. That when people offered to hold out a hand to you, you didn't try to cut it off at the wrist and sell it on the black market...so to speak. Zack did care, or at least thought he did. 

And if Cloud didn't care, wouldn't he have left by now? Wouldn't he have at least gotten off the sophmore and gone to sit across the room, or on the floor, or in the chair? This was obnoxiously alien. Cloud stared at the posters on the far wall, felt them staring back. He didn't know, he didn't understand. He had no fucking idea what he was, anything at all. 

And it didn't matter. It didn't matter, because it didn't matter. The person he was trying to be could shut up for now. Could shut up, and go to hell, and leave him alone for a few hours. 

Zack was another person, alive and breathing, warm through the layers of clothing. Cloud's family didn't hug, didn't have much contact. The feeling of another person seemed to fit into a groove he didn't know he had in himself. So the posters could stare, and the feeling of Zack breathing could feel eerie, but it was only because he was unused to it. 

"Did you hear me?" 

"Alright." 

"Look...it's nearly dark soon, Seifer's probably going to be looking for you..." Zack's voice when he talked about Seifer was quiet, like he was afraid of starting a fight. 

Cloud shook his head and slouched downwards, feeling their cloths twist and bunch up as he did so. Zack winced for a second and had to readjust the way he was breathing again. Now Cloud could feel Zack's breathing at the very base of his spine. "He already found me." 

It was very quiet in the room a moment, the sounds of someone swearing down the hall quietly intruding and making them both snort a laugh. Zack shrugged. "You hid it, right?" 

"Still have it." 

"In that case, you _deffinitly_ shouldn't be going back. You don't want the RA to see you or anything." 

"Do they do random searches?" 

A long, awkward pause. "...No." 

"You just don't want me to leave, do you." It was a statement, not a question. Zack shook his head and laughed quietly again, his shoulders shaking. Cloud looked at the far wall and smiled slightly himself. "It's okay, I don't want to either." 

"Stick around. Zidane won't care." 

Cloud pushed away from the wall, doubled forward and stretched his feet out behind himself until he was lying nearly diagonal across Zack, his stomach on the sophmore's back and his head at his shoulder. "You're a fucking bastard, and I'm sleeping on the floor." 

"Yeah, right." Zack reached for the laptop again, flipping the top open and waiting through the startup. A muffled and alien voice played tinny from the notebook's speakers, humming. Zack's fingertips wrapped round the edge of the computer, his face pointed down, eyes closed. When he spoke, Cloud couldn't help but pay sudden attention, because his voice was so far away and so strange...it didn't sound like Zack at all. "I'm glad you're here, Cloud." 

The blonde didn't say anything, but folded his arms on the bedspread and lay his chin down on them, watching Zack's face through a curtain of dark hair. 

Down the hall and outside, other people were talking. 


	11. Scars and Stitches

The past couple days had gone fairly good, actually. 

Zack sat on his desk, the place where all desk items weren't, towelling his hair. It felt strange to be back in the dorm after spending an entire summer working and living away from home and away from things that still made him feel like a kid. Yes, you were on your own in college, but everyone still babied everyone else to some degree. You didn't have to worry about food bills if you didn't want to, and if you skipped class that was all there was. The real world was nothing like college. You had gas to pay for and food bills to handle and your job to get to on time. The lack of solid responsability in college was nice, so long as you were missing it. But now he felt like he had too much free time. Time enough to actually sit around drying his hair and thinking- that was too much of it. 

Cloud had left very early in the morning the other day, when Zidane had come in. The tech had woke the both of them up when he switched on the light without thinking. The realization that Cloud should probably spend at least part of a night in his own room had hit both of them right about then- otherwise, Zack warned him, the Weapons would probably zero in on them both. 

But the next day they'd met at lunch again. Although Cloud wasn't spending all his free time around Zack, that was alright. He needed to make other friends too, he needed to get used to the campus on his own. It also gave Zack some time to think over his own stance on the situation. Cloud never said he _wasn't_ interested in Zack, but he never said he was. And it was obvious that he was going through the usual freshman identity crisis. Maybe it would be better if they just coasted along as they were for a while. Yeah...he ruffled the towel around his hair, thinking aloud. "It'll be touch and go for a while, both of us'll do better by that." 

"You know, if it wasn't for the fact I've known you a year, I'd probably be looking at you strangely." 

"Hey, didn't hear you coming." Zack smirked as Zidane shut the door behind himself, tossing his bag into the center of the floor. "How's the play going?" 

Zidane shrugged, brushing some tenacious woodchips from his shirt. "It's not. Everyone who signed up for work study hasn't showed up, so the set isn't even started yet. That, and the lumber truck got here late. When we did a dimmer check, everything was zonked. Turns out the lighting board's been dumping cues over the summer. Good thing it's just a goddamn musical, we can just play canned music through the bose but-" 

"You need someone to help out?" The irrational urge to be busy again was scratching at him. 

Smirking, the tailed student collapsed in a desk chair beside Zack and shook his head. "Thanks, but it's only the second day. We'll get it worked out. It's-" 

"It's always like that. Yeah, I know. That's why I ain't a theatre major." Zack dropped the towel into his lap and shook his head, sending his long hair back behind him. "That, and the whole cliche." 

"Between you and me, there's a theatre fag in the room." 

"Required for every student graduating college- one room equalling or possiably exceeding a cliche. Those students refusing to make some sort of stupid choice or major mistake will be forced to repeat their previous year until a satisfactory act of idiocy is achived. If-" 

"Sorry to stop the influx of improvisational crap, but what about you and the Cloudy-boy now?" Zidane folded his foot into his lap and began to undo his shoes, not making eye contact. His tone was buisness-like. "I have a right to know as your roommate." 

Zack winced. _Looks like a summer doesn't make anyone forget. Shit, why was I such an idiot? Eh...Everyone's an idiot frosh year._ "Like I said, we're going to coast through it so far." Kicking out his feet, the dark-haired student hopped off the desk and crossed the room to the closet, looking inside with divided concentration. "He reminds me a lot like I used to be, so I don't want to do anything serious." _I can't take anything serious._

Watching his roommate for a short while, Zidane shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "Your jeans are out on the bed, man." 

"Nnn, thanks." Zack turned and flopped stomach first onto his bed, worming towards a pair of oversized jeans with brightly coloured stripes along the outside of the legs. When his nose touched the fabric, he grabbed them and threw them violently over his back. They landed in aproximate pants-location on his legs. Zidane watched the entire display and then applauded sarcasticly when Zack actually sat up to pull the pants on over his boxers. 

"You're ready for the big time, compodre," the blonde shook his head, smiling. "Much as you and I hate the feeling of being serious though- you seem sort of tuned out." His tail flicked and coiled around a leg of the chair. "Did you get anything to eat yet today?" 

Kicking his legs up in the air and flopping around into the pants, Zack made a disgusted sound. "Christ, it's eleven o'clock in the frikkin morning," someone in the hall outside was nearly drowning him out with their thumping up the stairs. "I just got-" 

_Whump whump TWACK_

The conversation came to a halt and Zack stopped trying to limbo into his pants. The two sophmores looked at eachother and then at the door in confusion. The thumping against their door continued, more frantic and more psychotic. Zidane blinked. 

"It sounds like someone's run into our door." 

Zack didn't grant a reply, but got up and opened the door. To only his mild surprise, Cloud was holding fast to the doorjamb, breathing heavily and looking wild-eyed. The freshman continued to pant, watching Zack with an expression that begged his own body to let him have the air to speak. The dark-haired sophmore waited a moment until the blonde had caught his breath before asking. "What's up, free-Cloud?" 

"You've got to help me!" Cloud's voice was under strain, his knuckles white against the framing. "They found out, I don't know what to do, I've got to meet them but I'm so fucked because I kept it back in the room. Shit!" The fear in his eyes showed that if he was the type to let himself, Cloud would have been crying in complete helplessness right now. Instead, he was swearing and both angry and terrified at the same time. "I'm fucked! I'm so fucking fucked!" 

"Wait, whoa," Zidane was out of his chair and beside Zack in the doorway. "Who's doing what to you?" 

"Room search!" Cloud blurted, leaning into the doorway in exhaustion, his shoulders shaking. He'd probably crossed the entire campus running like a blue flame was under his ass. Zack felt a sliver of cold go unwelcome down his spine at those words and Cloud plunged on ahead. "They're going to do a fucking room search on me!" 

Standing back slightly, Zidane looked at him in confusion. "In college? They can't do that-" 

"They can," Zack's voice was deadpan. Looking at his roommate out of the corner of his eye, he cleared up what he'd cleared up fourteen times before a year prior. "They can and they do, because you live on their property. I'll take care of this," he waved Zidane further back and grabbed the doorknob, stepping out of the room and pushing Cloud out of the way. He felt sickly calm, sickly professional, didn't like it but couldn't see any other way to deal with the situation. Cloud was looking him straight in the eye, still shaking and breathing hard. _Handle this._ "How did you find out about this?" 

"Got a note in class," Cloud was trying to form sentances but it was understandably not working to the degree he would have liked. "That Hojo guy was there. Said they were searching it now, had to leave class cause I had to be there so-" 

The sophmore groaned internally. "Don't tell me you ran." 

"I bolted! They can't start without me but I don't know what to do! What the fuck do I do, I'm fucked!" 

Grabbing onto the blonde's wrist, Zack dragged him down the steps, through the hallways and into the daylight. He was suddenly aware that he'd forgotten to put on shoes, but it didn't make a difference. This was an emergency. "It's okay, but that was stupid. Really stupid." 

"I'm not worried about being fucking stupid, I'm worried about being fucking caught!" Cloud snapped at him as they started to run across the campus. 

"If you're caught, It's _because_ you're fucking stupid!" Zack snarled back, trying to keep his cool. "I had this happen last year so listen to me. They can't legally start without you there and they can't search anything that belongs to you, like a box or a steamer trunk. Where'd you hide what Seifer gave you?" 

"I-" 

"And why the hell didn't you go to him with this problem? He's the one who gets people out of this, he had to have told you that!" Despite contradicting his own advice, Zack was feeling a dull rage inside himself. How could Cloud be such an idiot? How could he make the same exact mistakes that a certain dark-haired sophmore whose first name started with Za and ended in Ck did? Weren't people supposed to be _smart_ in college? "Forget it. So anything in the dresser or desk or closet is fair game to them. You didn't hide it in those places, did you?" 

"Hell no, I'm not retarded! You want me to leave it spread out on my bed or something?" 

"Good. I mean no! Shit. Now you're freaking _me_ out. Wait," Zack ground to a halt and held out his hand, catching Cloud in the chest. Turning towards him, he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself before speaking again. "The room search isn't as bad as it sounds. The worst part is the invasion of privacy, but you probably won't be caught with anything. And your roommate gets searched too, so maybe they'll find something in his stuff that'll take the focus off you. Did they say if it was you or him who made them search?" Cloud shook his head. "Okay, so there's a chance you're not in trouble. Just stay calm through the whole thing. Even if they do catch you, it's your first offence on campus. They won't kick you out." 

There was a lingering silence when Zack finished his sentance. Maybe he was expecting Cloud to respond, to give him some more information to work with, to do anything at all. But instead, he just felt the cold grass and dirt on his feet and could hear people talking not too far off. The blonde continued to meet his gaze, but wasn't glaring. Maybe he was in shock. Maybe he was waiting for more advice from Zack. And maybe it was just an awkward silence. 

Sighing, the sophmore put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes in frustration. "At least it's just e. You won't be punished too bad for that. We're in college, after all." He could hear Cloud make a sort of a snorting noise at that and dropped his hand. "Well...Come on. This won't get any easier the longer you leave it." 

****

There was a sort of dull ache that crept into Zack's stomach at the sight of Cloud's room being turned upside down by Professor Hojo and the other teachers. For a moment he felt a detatched confusion at whether or not this was _his_ room. The layout was of course the same and the sight more or less was identical. It wasn't until Cloud moved beside him that he snapped out of the strange mix-up. The blonde was more nuerotic than Zack had ever seen him. His hands were in the front pocket of his sweater, Zack could see them fidgiting nervously. His eyes kept darting, but the sophmore couldn't draw any sort of conclusion as to _where_ he'd hidden the e. 

_I just want to ask him. If I knew, I could probably throw them off. But we're in a bloody vow of silence here. You say something, and what if they hear you, and then you're screwed like the new kid in jail dropping the soap._ Zack had to admit that it didn't look like Cloud's roommate was going to be much of a distraction either. The guy was scrawny and looked sort of distanced from everything, with hair darker than Zack's - straighter too. A red bandana was holding it out of his eyes, but otherwise the freshman was dressed in dull blacks. 

Actually, there were two of them. That guy and a friend, but it wasn't hard to tell who was the owner of the other side of the room. There were books, but they were put away neatly. No cloths were left out and there was only one poster on the wall. The other guy was fairly broadcasting someone who could care less about putting away books or cloths. That one was blonde and tough looking, with shortish hair and a pair of goggles around his head. Although he was dressed in black too, he had the sullen look of someone who would deffinitly rather be seen in a daily-worn torn up outfit. Both of them were just as stone still and quiet as Cloud. 

So it came as a relief when Cloud finally looked back at Zack, his expression no longer pleeding, but now a sort of resigned stoicism. So the best he could do in this situation was..._What I would have liked someone to do in mine._ "I _told_ you." 

Cloud's eyes slitted, the blonde's voice going into the same semi-angry tones he'd taken with Zack constantly on and off the past several days. "Shut up, Zack!" He hissed, the facade of rage something Zack was getting used to by now. "I didn't know it would happen! How could I?" 

"Waa, waa, waa. I didn't listen to Zack and now I'm caught, nyaa nyaa-" 

"Just...Shut up." With a sigh of frustration, Cloud took his hands out of the pocket and folded his arm, leaning back against Zack. The sophmore had to adjust how he was standing but propped up Cloud willingly. Despite their situation, this was a good sign. A good sign, a good sign...Zack was finding it hard to concentrate on the trouble at hand. Because this meant Cloud was getting used to him enough to feel comfortable with physical contact even in really stressful situations. This was fantastic, this was great. Stuff could actually progress forward than hanging in some sort of demented static state. This- 

"Oh, fuck!" 

Zack snapped out of his own little world for the second time to see one of the other staff members...Lucrecia, he thought, coming towards Hojo with a liquor bottle in her hands. Glancing at the blonde a moment, Cloud stared open mouthed and shook his head in denail. The person who had sworn wasn't Cloud- it was the other blonde who was hanging around. Hojo zoned in instantly on the goth-like freshman- it was on his side of the room, Zack gathered. 

"Who does this belong to?" 

"Not me!" Cloud spat out a little too readily, making the thin expressioned teacher cast him a suspicious glare from the corner of his spectacles. Zack elbowed his friend in the side and Cloud clapped his mouth shut. 

Hojo brushed at the strands of errant hair constantly in his face and pulled himself up to full height, looking down his nose and beneith his glasses at the students gathered in the doorway. Zack knew that look, he'd been pinned under it before. He was as much a suspect as any of the others, he realized. "So, I suppose you're all innocent little boys here, hmm?" 

The fidgiting sound from the direction of Cloud's roommate and his friend got louder until the dark-haired one finally spoke up. His voice was surprisingly calm and quiet. It was obvious he was lying. "It's mine." 

Then, things happened quickly. The short blonde swore again and punched the doorframe violently. Hojo shot him the classic bug-under-glass look which told them all that he'd found his guilty party. 

And then three small bags fell out of the ceiling light which had been partially unscrewed throughout the course of the search. 

Two bounced off Hojo's head and the third fell to the floor with the slightest muffled sound. Lucrecia cupped a hand over her mouth trying not to laugh, but Hojo regained his composure easily and picked up one of the bags, running the plastic between his fingers. A powder inside shifted back and forth. Cloud's muscles went ridgid and spooked as his roommate managed to work out an equally surprised "Those aren't mine." 

"Jesus christ, in the light?" 

"Shut up!" Pulling away from the sophmore, Cloud's voice was bordering on a crack that would have been humerous in any other situation. "I didn't know!" 

Zack hissed between his teeth, keeping his voice as far down as he could. "And that's _not_ what you had before." 

Hojo was smiling now, motioning for his assistants to pick up the other bags. "I think we all know what this is. Obviously, there will need to be some diciplinary actions taken. If you will kindly follow me. Valentine and Highwind- I believe there is no way to determine which of you is the culprite in this case," The professor snorted and smirked, tilting his head back to look at the two freshman. "Seeing as you're always so close. And Hmm...Strife, is it? Yes, you're coming too." 

Begining to open his mouth, begining to ask _What about me_, Zack's survival drive finally kicked in. _Don't be an idiot, Knightblade. If you take the fall for him or even with him, you probably won't be here much longer. Try to keep out of trouble you didn't cause, you'll do better for it. Just..._

"BORED BORED BORED!" 

A blur that could only be described as insanity with a capital Zell Dincht went rocketing past the group of stunned students. He paused only a second before the window at the end of the hall. 

"BOOOOOOOOORED!" 

Without any explanation beyond that, the hyperactive tattooed blonde threw himself violently through the window. While the three freshman stared, outside and on the ground two stories below, the invincable Zell picked himself up and ran away, still screaming. 

Irvine, sadly behind, got to the window shortly after Zell had jumped. Pushing off from the frame and tearing down the stairwell after his clearly psychotic companion, calling his name. 

Hojo stared a moment at the spot where all this had transpired and turned to the other teachers. "Shera, make sure that Dincht and Kinneas are brought to the dean as well." 

****

"I'm going to die." 

"You're not going to die." 

"I'm going to be burried as a pile of bloody pulp." 

"Only if you flip out so much I have to beat sense into you." Zack sighed and put a hand to his forehead as they walked across campus. The small brick building where the dean kept her office was a little cottage surrounded with pine trees and a badly kept flower garden. It wasn't the kind of place you found yourself thinking about the condition of your burial, normally. 

Cloud's face was ashen, everything about him had abandoned the antisocial and defensive image that Zack had gotten to accept as the blonde's way of defending himself. He was still fighting to keep from shaking or breaking down, though. That was a good sign. "They're going to expell me." 

"No, they aren't. Seriously dude, calm down, it's only the first week of school." 

"That makes it worse!" 

"It does _not_, you're not in high school anymore. They've probably gone around busting everyone they can this week." That was a lie, which he knew, but it didn't hurt to tell that to Cloud. "You're not alone." That, at least, was true. "You shouldn't get in too much trouble." That...that was still up in the air. If it had been e, like he had thought in the first place, it really would have been no problem. A warning, probably, and that would have been it. But a generic looking white powder was _never_ a good thing to be caught with. Especially when it fell out of the ceiling onto none other than the biggest bastard on campus, Professor Hojo. _Well,_ Zack thought half sarcasticly to himself, _at least he didn't say it was flour or something. Jesus._

They'd already reached the door of the office building, so by that logic Zack's words were having about the same effect on Cloud as someone having a seizure in India. Zack knew the feeling he must be having- like something the size of a beach ball went cold and died in his stomach, only to transform into month old oatmeal and ooze around. Such a lovely, wonderful, nauseating feeling. At least, he reasoned, he knew how it felt. That would help him comfort Cloud later. 

"I'm going to die," Cloud muttered, following Hojo and the other captured students through the door. 

"You won't die," Zack lingered after them, but did not enter. "I'll be here to tell you that again when you come back out of there. You'll be okay!" The door swung shut behind the blonde and Zack stared at it a moment. Walking forward, he leaned his forehead against the paned glass and stared down at his bare feet. "Least, I hope you'll be okay." 

Slumping down beside the building, Zack resigned himself to wait. The brick was cold and still slightly moist. If he looked at either the ground or the wall too long, he could see some spiders working or some ants wandering or moss or small red bugs. So best not to look, because then he would have to stand. Once he got on his feet, it would only be a matter of time before he started pacing back and forth like some sort of caged thing when it wasn't even him in trouble. So forget the bugs, forget the ants, and apply brain power to the problem at hand. Getting Cloud out of the spotlight. 

Cloud must have been going back to Seifer, that was a no brainer. Did that mean...what? He wasn't smoking or shooting up or snorting or whateverthefuckthatdrugwastheappropriatewaytouseit- there was too much of it. So was he dealing? Delivering? Being a middle man, or what? Putting his middle finger in his mouth, Zack bit down until it hurt, trying to work out the equation in his head. Seifer never took on new kids and trusted them _that_ far, and probably would give new kids who caused him to be beaten up even less of a chance. Hell, by the way Seifer's mind worked, he should have been getting- 

"Oh, shit, I'm a fucking idiot!" Zack smacked himself in the head hard, the back of his skull connecting with the bricks. "I've got a brain the size of a pea, not a good one either. A pea in fucking _draught_ season that's been buried in the dirt for six months. A pale, little, withery pea. I've got two working cells between my ears- Fix, and act _retarded_. Silly me, I was pushing the _retarded_ button-" 

"Be fair to those with learning dissabilities, they would never have gotten involved when they shouldn't have." Zack removed his palm and looked up into the softly smirking face of Kuja. "Hello, Knightblade." 

"You don't want to start a fight with me," he found himself growling. It was the same tone of voice he'd used when he beat Seifer into the floorboards the first time he'd met Cloud. It was surprising him to be using it again. "I've got more experience in these kinds of wars than you do." 

Kuja sighed and flicked his wrist upwards, the black plastic jacket he was wearing making little triangles of light on the surface. "Please, this war is over with." He brushed at the feathery white hair, even though it didn't need it. "I only stopped by to tell you to keep your hands off our playthings. We're perfectly content to share," Zack felt the little hairs on the back of his neck standing up. "But if you don't plan on giving that which belongs to us back, we'll have to take drastic measures." 

"I'm not in the habit of shooting the messanger, but for you I'll make an exception." Zack growled and climbed to his feet, feeling his hands balling into fists without any concious thought. _I hate getting angry. I fucking _hate_ it. But this just isn't right, it isn't fair, it isn't fucking _human_ goddamnit!_

Kuja looked at him from the corner of his eyes, the dark pupils rolling lazily towards the door. Touching a finger to his chin, the white-haired student ticked it back and forth, smiling. "Ah, ah ah...Outside of the office? Careful, Knightblade. You're already being watched." 

"You can't do this to him because of what _I_ did! That's not right. Seifer's a fucking coward and you tell him tha-" 

"The question isn't if he's a coward," Kuja's voice raised but didn't snap, drowning out anything Zack had begun to say. Folding his arms across his chest, the light haired student slitted his eyes and glared just slightly. "You know that it was the only way to strike down two birds with one stone. The question isn't morality." 

"So what the hell _IS_ it then?!" 

The glare on Kuja's face faded as if it had never existed. Lowering his hands slowly and sauntering forward, the light reflected strangely off his dark clothing. Giving a flick of his hair, Kuja paused a foot away from Zack and smiled ever so lightly, his eyes half hooded. "Would you even be involved if Seifer's new plaything was a girl?" 

Zack started to respond, started to say that of course he would. He started and finished, just like any person would. He answered without hesitation, the words leaving his lips before he'd even thought of them. But as they disolved in the open air, the doubt struck him. There was no way he could say. He was biased, there was no way to lie about that. He was horriably biased towards Cloud. The truth was, he couldn't know. He hopefully never would. Unless the situation cropped up, he couldn't say for sure. 

Kuja knew that. What Zack had said passed over him as though nothing had been spoken at all. Looking down and laughing just slightly, Kuja smirked. "It's so easy to claim to be a hero, to be a real _knight_ just riding off to save anyone in distress." Looking up, Zack felt Kuja's eyes more than he saw them. They were cold and leashing, commanding and demanding and that was why he hated them. "Just don't forget you've still got a collar around your own neck." 

There was no doubt in Zack's mind that he wanted to kill Kuja. The doubt was whether or not he could get away with it. "That's ancient fucking history, and where the hell do you get off dragging _that_ up in-" 

"Oh," Kuja murmered, sounding bored with everything around him. "Here comes the toy in question now. Well, I'll leave you to play. Just remember that it doesn't belong to you." 

"He's not a fucking toy, will you _stop_ with this fourth grade metaphor BULLSHIT?!" 

But Kuja was already walking away, hands in the tight pockets of his pants, reflective fabric flashing in the sunlight. Zack felt cold and cheated, sick to his stomach and enraged like only Seifer's crew could make him. Their way of dealing with people was crap. People belonged to _themselves_, not others, and there was no way just because he'd been stupid last year he was owned by them now. To date someone was not to sell your soul to them, it just didn't work like that. It _didn't fucking work like that._ Zack's fist connected with the bricks just as Cloud pushed the door open. The smacking cracking sound was unmistakeable. Cloud jumped, Zack said nothing, pulling back his fist. His arm was shaking, he couldn't think. 

"I'm sorry," Cloud's voice sounded both shaken and offended. 

"I'm not angry at you." Zack's hand felt damp and sticky. The skin on his knuckles had split. 

Cloud stared silently at him a moment, still looking shaken from his encounter with the dean. Zack didn't expect him to say much, or even to stand around. He expected them both to go their own ways and brood their own ways and that would be- 

"Zack...after class," The dark haired sophmore felt Cloud's voice slithering through the rage that was holding him in. He felt like he was blinking out of being blinded and looked at the freshman. Cloud's eyes were to the side, away from both the building and him. "I'm thinking I might show up at your room. I have some things I want to talk about." 

They stood silent a moment more, the door swinging behind them as Cloud's roommate and his friend left and set off across the grounds. Zack brought his hand to his face and sucked on the bleeding knuckles, feeling them sting. That was a good, honest, real feeling- not an installed anger. "Hey," he spoke around his knuckle, clapping his uninjured hand down on Cloud's shoulder. "Stop by at any time." 


	12. The Archer

"Ow, Jesus, I poked myself in the eye!" Zidane grabbed at his face, dropping a strange brown square object. 

"Eye molestor," Zik grunted at the blonde. 

"You should know better than to closely inspect anything the school makes, Tribal," Freya very gradually stirred a cup of thin generic tea with one of the dining hall's spoons. The usually noise of lunch hour was drowning out the clinking metal against ceramic, but she didn't mind. The little teabag swirling in the lukewarm water spun around the spoon. Looking up at her lunchtime companions, she inclined her head. "They are known to attack." 

Zidane rubbed at his eye with one hand and flicked the strange object off the table with the other. "I'm sorry, anything called an 'almost candy' bar needs close inspection." 

By all means the food served in college wasn't _bad_, but it wasn't anything near good either. Nor was it particularly identifiable. Usually the selection of deserts were those that were most intimidating. Most of them looked like they'd been left out on the road during a hard rain before the delivery truck ran them over. Some people ate them- mostly freshman. The rest of the campus generally steared clear. 

It had of course, then, only been scientific curiousity which had caused Zidane to pick up one of the daily 'treats' and bring it to their table for examination. After it had successfully fended off attacks by knives, forks and sporks he'd resorted to softening it in orange juice before trying once again to disect it. 

Apparently the desert from hell had other objectives, though. 

"You're boring." Zik muttered before returning to eating his pasta. 

"Well excuse me, if I could summon a better entertainer I would. But Zack's off bailing out that Cloud kid." Zidane rubbed tenatively at his eye one more time. It was bloodshot now. 

Freya sipped her tea and raised her eyebrows. "Bailing him out? What's he done now?" 

"Now? What'd he do before?" 

"Shut up," Zik's voice killed explanations, the white-haired student looking over the rim of a cup and pointing over Freya's shoulder. 

Coming towards their table, hands in the front pocket of his sweater was Cloud. The blonde looked less skittish than the last time they'd seen him in the dining hall. This time, though, he seemed completely drained. His movements were depressed and his voice subdued when he spoke. "Hey." He didn't look at them when he spoke. 

"Hey," Zidane rapped his knuckles on the table. "Take a seat. How'd it go?" 

Cloud shook his head. "Don't have time. I just wanted to know if Zack was here." 

Shaking her head, Freya leaned over the back of her chair. She spoke softly, trying to seem comforting. "He hasn't stopped in for lunch, sorry Cloud. Are you alright?" 

"I'm fine." He looked anything but fine. 

It was difficult to miss that. Biting his lip, Zidane leaned against the table and thought. "Hey, did you check the room?" Cloud shook his head and made a sort of muted sound of apathy. "He might be up there." 

"Yeah, sure." 

"Wait a minute," reaching down, Zidane fished through the front pocket of his backpack. Hooking a keyring around his finger, he deposited it onto the table with a clank. "There, take the key. Door might be locked." He slid it across towards Freya, who lifted it and handed it over her head to Cloud. 

Taking the keys cautiously, Cloud blinked in confusion. "Why would it be locked?" 

Zidane flicked his tail. "That's just the way he angsts." 

"Angst isn't a verb-" 

"Spend some more time in college. It becomes one." 

Staring at the lunch table, Cloud held up the keys. They jingled in his hand. "Are you sure it's okay?" 

"Yeah, don't worry about it." 

Freya sipped at her tea again. "Zack has never been mad at his friends for more than two minutes." Her strange ears flickered a moment. "And remind him he shouldn't be skipping classes." 

"Sure..." Cloud slowly returned his hand and the keys as well to his front pocket. "I will. Thanks." 

As the blonde freshman was leaving, he was vaguely aware that the conversation behind him was turning towards questions of what he had done. Shaking his head and exiting the lunch hall, he turned the keys over in his pocket, thinking. 

***

_Your letter is over twenty four hours late. You better write more often, you know. You're supposed to be on time with this._

Zack prodded the scrolling keys on his laptop, making the short letter shoot up and down his screen. Right now sending e-mail to friends was honestly the least of his worries. He'd already written about five different varieties of replies to it, all of them ending in a bitter and snide remark and he'd deleted them all before sending them. This letter was probably going to remain unanswered for a while. 

Propped up against the wall, he didn't really feel like thinking about anything. The TV was roaring and crashing in front of him but he wasn't registering anything on it. The heater clicked on and clicked off again, a momentary bit of electrical confusion. 

The dormitory was quiet, for the most part, which felt odd but nice at the same time. Being the only person there gave him an opportunity to think. 

Even though he didn't want to do that. 

He was feeling trapped and he didn't like it. Seifer was going to cause more trouble for Cloud, he was absolutely certain of it. If he got in the way, it was only going to be worse. 

He didn't even want to question how much worse it was already going to be just from his threatening Kuja. Hopefully not at all. Kuja wasn't a whiner and Seifer wasn't interested in solving other people's problems, just his own. 

At least that was how he had been last year. 

Zack's stomach growled and he ignored it. 

Clicking a few times around his inbox, Zack started a new letter. He addressed it to his professors, made it simplex. _I'm not going to class today because I'm not feeling well. Please tell me what I'm going to miss. I don't plan to drop the class._ Click. Sent. The internet was nice because it could be so concise and easy to cease contact with people when you wanted to. 

The only problem was it could only be so entertaining for so long. Flicking the screen up and down a few more times, Zack closed out of the browser. 

Cloud would probably have to go to one of the school's support groups, same as he had the year prior. They wouldn't do anything, though, he knew that from experience. The groups only served to annoy and waste time. He wondered if they would be student run the same as last year or not. This early in the year, when the group started up, it would probably be cronic trouble makers and a bunch of freshmen. Cloud's roommate would probably get stuck there too. _Big shock that I'm not going to be there. I would have thought they'd be snooping around me like bloodhounds._

A key clattered in the lock and Zack didn't look up. When the door creeked open, he was opening the browser up again, getting ready to compulsively check his e-mail. "Hey." 

"Can I come in?" 

Since it wasn't Zidane's voice, Zack's head snapped up in a moment of confusion. Cloud was trying to wrestle the key free of the lock without crossing the threshold, his eyes down. Zack blinked in a sort of mild confusion and waved to Cloud. "Yeah, c'mon. Close the door behind you." 

Cloud shut the door, looking anywhere but at Zack. That was starting to become a regular form of behavior for the blonde. He finally rested his attention on the TV. Pointing, he said, "Deep Blue Sea?" 

"Eyup." Zack closed the laptop and slid it back into the crack between his matress and the wall. 

"But that movie's terriable!" 

"Don't I know it. They show bones in the shark's fins on the closeups, the tiger sharks are basicly great whites with stripes painted on them, they kill off the only good character-" 

Cloud blinked at him. "The chick?" 

"Na, na. The parrot. And don't call girls chicks," Zack pointed at him. "It makes you sound stupid. And in ten years you'll just sound stupid. Like old geezers with no teeth and scurvy who call them dames." He shuffled to the side as Cloud sat on the edge of the bed. "So how you doing?" 

Shrugging, Cloud remained silent before pointing to the TV. "Can you turn that crap off?" 

"You turn it off. I don't want to move." Cloud rolled his eyes and picked up the remote that was less than five inches away from Zack, flicking off tele. "So?" 

Shaking his head and leaning back against the wall, Cloud sighed. "So...I'm stuck going to this stupid group thing and they're sending a call home." 

"See, you didn't die. And the group's not bad, just stupid." 

Cloud shrugged again. "Yeah but I'll be dead on our first long break though. My parents are going to take my head off." Before Zack had a chance to interject, the blonde tilted his head to look at him. "You've been to the group thing?" 

Zack stared at him a moment, letting himself gradually slide against the wall. Tilting slowly, ever so slowly and remaining seriously fixed on Cloud, he finally fell over with a thump onto the bed. Cloud snickered and Zack flopped a hand limply on the bedspread as he spoke. "Like I said, everyone's stupid as a freshman." 

"So?" 

"So don't feel bad." 

"No, I mean," Cloud looked across the room at Zidane's glossy theatre posters. "What did you do? How'd you wind up there?" 

Zack looked to the side, which was down at the bed. The weave of the fabric blurred together this close. "It's lame. Don't you have class or something anyway?" He flicked his eyes to the blonde. 

"No, I only have one on fridays. And they came and pulled me out of it." 

"Depriving young students of their freedom to learn...what's next, imposing on our free will? Preventing us from getting scurvy when we want to? Arg, that's my lifestyle choice, the bastards. The fruit rapers. The-" 

"So what happened?" Cloud apparently wasn't going to let him dodge his way out of this question. 

Flopping an arm against the wall, Zack started to reach for the laptop. "You can read it, I wrote it all down-" 

"I'm not going to read your journal!" Cloud looked at Zack like he'd just lost his last marble. Not just lost it, as if it had just leapt clean out of his ear, sprouted feet and ran for the window, opened it and taken a two story plunge onto the pavement screaming in a high pitched voice. 

"Why not?" 

"Are you nuts? Since when has reading the private journal of someone you see every day been a good idea?" He looked nearly desperate. "It completely kills friendships, I'm serious." 

Zack had the mental image of Cloud walking into his high school and suddenly being avoided by a crowd of people all muttering to themselves. Thinking it over, he had to admit, there was a lot of needless angst in the old entries. Not to mention a lot more evidence of stupidity than he really cared to broadcast to the world anymore than he previously had. "Okay, I get your point." 

"So you're going to tell me." Cloud inclined his head and looked serious. 

"Yeah, sure..." 

***

So in all honesty it didn't start until after midterms had been through with, so I had a few more weeks on you in terms of being stupid there. And I mean that in the most loving of ways, seriously. 

I'd already been skipping a couple classes. Once a prof told me there was no attendance taken, fft, that was my ticket out of there. I don't know what the hell I thought I was doing. I guess I thought I was smarter than I really was. I mean, I'd pulled decent grades in high school, so I guess I figured I could do that without any motivation in college. 

So first off, seriously, go to your classes. 

No, that's not what the thing really was. I'm getting to it. Yes, in a roundabout manner. Give me a break, this is recent history. I still regret it. 

So like I say...Around that time I met up with Seifer. I don't mean like 'boom' suddenly or anything. We'd been bumping into eachother around campus and stuff and saying hi. He was always saying he liked my hair and shit. But we ran into eachother again in the mail room, cause I guess we were both skipping classes. Or he didn't have one. I dunno. He was already a sophmore anyway. 

There was this poster, one of the really lame ones that they paste up everywhere. Anyway, this was for uhm...I think it was the club for lesbians and gay and bi. Cause we started making fun of it. I mean, the thing is that the people who design these posters act like you _need_ some form of support. 

What? Me? Yeah, I've known I'm gay since like...high school or something. Na, I wasn't freaked out. I guess I went to a really liberal school. 

Anyway...I think I said something like how it was talking down to people. I was just talking out loud, you know? And he heard me and said something back about it. 

You know, one thing leads to another, la ti da da...We went up to his room, did the vertical mambo...Hey, you're the one who asked me to tell this story. What, do you want me to go into florishing detail with tons of flowery euphamisms? Yes, his throbbing man-stick penitrated my rear gates and demon seed...anyway. 

So being an idiot, I figure this means something like trust. See, you get why I'm all nervous for you now, don't you? I did the same thing you did. Seifer had me help with drop-offs and pick ups. And y'know, I guess I thought we were dating or something. Cause that's how it worked in high school. 

Yes, you're right. This _ain't_ high school. So in the process of being fucked in the ass, I got fucked in the ass. 

Well see, I was just being stupid. I mean, I knew Freya already and a couple other people but I wasn't really hanging out with them or anything. And they kept telling me ya know..."He's bad news, he's only using you, we've heard him talking" and stuff. Yes, that does sound familiar, doesn't it? 

So there's a three day weekend break coming up, and Seifer's going home. So I'm supposed to take his place and go to this party and deal and stuff. No, hell _no_ I didn't do it! Well, mostly because I was lazy. Saying I cared about a reputation would be giving myself too much credit. 

I dunno, to you and me that's not a big deal. But maybe there was some big thing that was supposed to happen there or something like that. Seifer had given his word. I don't know. But he came back and found out I'd slacked and he was _pissed_. 

Well no, we wound up beating eachother to snot. I mean, neither one of us was the most rational person and I took it personally and he took it personally and we wound up both in the health clinic. And Seifer's like the freakin Al Capone of campus, ya know? So the whole time I had people knocking on the door while the doc was checking me out and dropping weird hints. Like what? I dunno, I can't remember. Stuff like "some people are very disappointed with you" and "you know campus rules about fighting" just creepy ambigious stuff like that. 

And I get out of the clinic with a few stitches and bruises only to find my room being dumped upside down. Since I was too busy being sewn up to get back to my room and dispose of the evidence, the shit Seifer gave me is still out. And unlike you, I didn't have the heads up. They were waiting outside the door for me. 

Eh, I had it in the desk. Hey, I didn't know at the time. 

Oh, their reason was the best though. Seriously. Seifer must have tipped them off, but that wasn't a good enough reason because they tell me it was because my roomie'd noticed it was 'suspiciously clean.' 

So on top of fighting, I'm stuck with this whole loverly drug strike on my record. That was around the time I actually started making decent friends, because I was looking for anyone who could possiably bail me out. Prettymuch everyone was sympathetic to some degree. We tried finding ways to get me off the hook, but like I told you, there's weird rules about room searches. Since I'd been storing the shit in a desk that belonged to the college they had every legal right to search it. 

That's basicly it, though. I mean, aside from details and aftermath. Siefer and I basicly tried to subtly kill eachother for the rest of the year, I made other friends, stuff like that. 

What? Yeah, that's the only thing. Don't make fun of one time occurances, dude, one time matters a lot. Not everything has to be built up or worked out like in books. Sometimes all it takes is one fuck up to shape the rest of your life. 

So. Now you know. 


End file.
